Island
by BlueUtopiah
Summary: Alternate Universe. As a human teenager, Hiei fights a losing battle against his pain. Will Kurama be able to help him or will he become a victim of his own dark burdens as well? Kurama/Hiei Yusuke/Hiei Karasu/Hiei. Yaoi, Lemons, Angst, Self-Mutilation
1. March 1st, 2005

~Author's Note~

-Warnings: Lemon, Yaoi, Self-Mutilation, and lots of angst.  
>-This is a KuramaHiei story but Hiei does get around. Pairings this chapter: Yusuke/Hiei  
>-This story is alternate universe and takes place in Westchester County, NY which is about 1 hour north of Manhattan.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"What if, for example, you create a different pain in order to replace an unbearable one? Don't you feel like you could forget that pain even for a moment?<em>

_Of course, there's no way you could erase the pain…just like that."_  
><strong>Cut<strong>  
>Manga by Toko Kawai<p>

**Chapter 1: March 1st, 2005**

Hiei cried out as he was roughly penetrated from behind, Yusuke's cock practically splitting him in two. The force of the thrust shoved him forward a little, his elbows and knees sliding on the dark blue satin sheets.

"Yessss…" he hissed through his teeth, feeling the familiar tearing pain, welcoming it like an old friend, wanting more. Tensing his muscles, Hiei clamped around the invading shaft, squeezing it for all he was worth, smiling as he heard Yusuke moan.

"FUCK! Hiei, how do you _do_that?" Yusuke stilled for a moment; that tight passage clenching around him drove him straight to the verge of orgasm and he dangled over the edge of that blissful cliff. Hiei was so unbelievably hot in bed: crazy, voracious, never sated, as if every screw was his lifeline: there was a sort of desperation in the way he fucked. Hiei liked it hard and fast, in any position imaginable, his sweat-soaked white skin and keening wails making him all the more desirable, his small stature creating a false fragility that only added to the allure. Yusuke was sure that some of the guys at school fucked Hiei because his slight frame reminded them of a girl – and Hiei was twice as willing and three times more experienced than any of the girls at their school.

And he didn't want any attachments. Hiei was only in it for the pleasure, the momentary pleasure. Yusuke and Hiei had been fucking on and off for about a year now – once Keiko decided that sex before marriage was out of the question and Yusuke was left with the biggest set of blue-balls in the tri-state area. Their first time wasn't planned, but it happened in typical fashion: a late night, movies, pizza, beer, talking, more beer, more talking, and then Hiei was on top of Yusuke with his tongue in his mouth and his hand down his pants.

And the rest was history…Hiei understood that Yusuke would eventually marry Keiko, and Yusuke understood that he was one of many but the only one who was a friend. They approached each other when needed and Hiei had taught Yusuke quite a bit; in fact, Yusuke finally became the apt pupil that Keiko had always wanted him to be.

Unfortunately it wasn't in any subject taught in school.

Hiei whined in protest when Yusuke didn't move, pushing back a little, trying to impale himself further.

"Wait a sec Hiei," Yusuke's voice was strained. Hiei was so tight, so hot, he felt like his balls were going to pop. "You're killing me." This was going to get crazy fast and Yusuke needed a breather so he wouldn't disappoint. He ran the palm of his hand down Hiei's spine and the boy below him arched his back with a low moan. Through his sexual haze, Yusuke noted that the vertebrae were pointing out sharply under the shining white skin.

_Is he losing weight?_

But he wasn't going to ask Hiei about it now. The impending orgasm had reigned itself in, and with his new-found control, Yusuke felt that there were more pressing, _or pounding_matters to attend to.

Leaning over his wanton partner, Yusuke pulled his pulsing cock halfway out, and then circling his hips, slowly pushed back in. Hiei groaned and writhed below him, pressing his back up against Yusuke's chest, begging him with his body to go faster.

"You like that, Hiei?" Yusuke was on all fours over the boy, their arms overlapping, his lips against Hiei's ear. Hiei was practically shaking beneath him – wanting it so bad, needing to get that cock as deep inside of him as possible.

So deep he wouldn't feel anything.

"Tell me you like it," Yusuke ordered in a husky voice. Tracing the curve of Hiei's ear with his tongue, Yusuke slowly - tortuously – withdrew until only the tip of his shaft was left inside and then pushed back in just as slowly, drawing a long shuddering sigh from his partner. On the way out, Yusuke felt more warmth around his cock, and the slide back in was easier.

_He's bleeding again. Well, he wants it that way, lately he seems to like more pain._

Earlier, when Yusuke was rummaging through the nightable drawer, looking for anything that could be used as lube, Hiei had grabbed his hand, and with a shake of his head, he turned around to rest on all fours, ass in the air, demanding:

"Forget it. Just fuck me. _Now._"

And Yusuke was so horny today, he wasn't about to argue.

"I can't hear you Hiei." Without hesitation, Yusuke pulled out again – a quick glance down proved that he was right, his cock was coated in red – and savagely thrust back in, tearing another cry from his partner.

"Ahhhhh….nnnnggg.." The force and depth of the thrust yanked Hiei from his haze of need and he found his voice again. "I like it, I _love_it, OH GOD!" he screamed as Yusuke pulled out and slammed back in again – harder this time, hitting Hiei's sweet spot dead on. Yusuke liked what he heard, secretly hoping Keiko would be this loud in bed -sometimes the most reserved ones were the wildest behind closed doors – and began to rock his hips. Fisting the bed sheets, Hiei pressed his forehead into the mattress and pushed his rear back, meeting his lover thrust for thrust. Their moans and wails merged together, echoing through the room as they established a steady building rhythm.

This was Hiei's comfort: the squeak of the bed, the slap of skin against skin, the searing ecstatic pain as his body was pounded without mercy. For a few blissful moments, he felt needed, and that combined with the pain helped him escape for a little while.

"Harder…" he ordered, his voice muffled by the mattress. Yusuke straightened, grabbing Hiei by the hips, and used his strength to pull the smaller boy against him with each thrust. Hiei gasped, eyes widening, as Yusuke hit that blissful spot inside him every time. With each plunge, there was burning pain and incredible pleasure…

And Hiei still needed more.

Losing control, Hiei pushed up on his hands and knees, and swung his upper body back, slamming against Yusuke. Hiei's sweat-soaked back rubbed against a chest as hairless as his own, but far more muscular and well-defined. Reaching up behind him, he took a handful of black hair in each hand and started bouncing in Yusuke's lap. A rush of air and a groan tore from him with each bounce as his lover's thick shaft pummeled his sweet spot, sometimes going so deeply it practically crushed it, eliciting more delicious pain.

Hiei's groans turned into euphoric cries as a hand reached around to grab his shaft, and teeth sank into his shoulder, easily ripping through skin and drawing blood.

More blood, more pain, anything to distract him for awhile, anything to get him through just a little bit longer…

Yusuke began to piston him and he practically flew up and down, weightless in body and mind but pleasantly tethered to the material by the hand stroking him and the cock deep inside his ass.

Sweat streamed down Hiei's forehead into his eyes, one of his hands lost its purchase in that dark hair, the bed began to bang against the wall as they fucked like animals.

"Are you gonna come for me?" Yusuke breathed into Hiei's ear, his fist pumping the boy's shaft harder. "Say my name when you come."

"Yu..yus..." Hiei stuttered, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he no longer felt pleasure, but became the very idea of it, its essence, its concept. It filled his bones and carried his release.

"SAY MY NAME!" Yusuke screamed, bucking faster, hand practically a blur on Hiei's shaft. He was dangling from that cliff again, waiting for the right time to let go and plunge over the edge into that wonderful orgasmic abyss.

"Yu…yus...yusuk..." Hiei's breath came in gasping ecstatic sobs.

"SAY IT!"

"Yu…YUSUKE!" Hiei arched his back at an almost impossible angle and wailed, spilling himself into and over Yusuke's hand.

That was just what Yusuke was waiting for. Hiei's cry and that tight hot cavern pulsing around his cock pushed him from that cliff and he sailed into orgasm, screaming all the way. At that point, it was hard to tell who was louder.

_I wonder if his neighbors enjoy our sessions as much as we do._

Pulling out, Yusuke laid back on the bed, tugging Hiei down with him. The smaller boy was still trembling, lost in a post-orgasmic haze, sweat running down the side of his face, a thin stream of blood running from his shoulder, a small sated smile gracing his lips.

"Yusuke…" he hummed then, after a moment, he turned on his side, ran a fingernail up Yusuke's chest and said "Wanna go again?"

Yusuke's eyes widened "Christ, Hiei, I'm not Superman, give me some fucking time to recover-" His eyes widened even more as he watched Hiei straddle him, grab his hand and begin to lick it clean.

"Besides – uunnhhnn," it was hard to string words together when Hiei was wrapping his tongue around his fingers like _that._ Taking a deep breath, Yusuke gently removed his hand from Hiei's hot little mouth and focused, or he _would_have to fuck him again – and there was no time. "I have to meet Keiko in an hour, we're buying stuff for the party, and I have to take a shower."

Hiei's eyes flickered with disappointment and for a moment Yusuke could've sworn he saw fear, but then something dropped over his features, smoothing them into the usual mask of indifference laced with hostility.

"Fine," he got up and leaned over the side of the bed. Ruffling through the pile of clothes he found his cigarettes and lit one.

Yusuke winced when he saw the blood smeared across the back of Hiei's thighs.

_Shit…why does he do that to himself ? I mean, we all like a little pain with our pleasure, but this…_

"Hiei…" Yusuke began. He wanted to ask him so much.

"I thought you were going to take a shower," Hiei interrupted without turning around. The immediate pain was starting to fade and the weight hung close, waiting in the wings, reminding him that anything he did at this point was only temporary, and soon anything he did wouldn't be enough. It was a practiced exercise in control not to completely break down under its imminent heaviness, and he didn't want Yusuke to see the struggle.

_Please, don't ask, you'll only make this harder…_

Yusuke sighed, and walked into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Hiei was on his third cigarette, mask securely in place, when Yusuke strolled out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, droplets of water clinging to his back and torso, wet hair hanging in his face.<p>

"Shit, your Mom's bathroom is crazy!" he stated, running his fingers through his hair and shaking it out. "There are, like, three shower jets in there!"

Hiei took a long drag and slowly blew the smoke out. "The bed's not bad either," he said, smirking.

Yusuke dropped his towel on the floor and began gathering his clothes, which were haphazardly strewn about the room. He figured that his jacket and shirt were probably still in the foyer; Hiei had ripped both of them off him as soon as the front door had closed.

Pulling on his jeans, Yusuke gave Hiei a devious look. "She's going to kill you if she finds out we're screwing in her bed." Bending down, he looked under it for a missing sock.

Hiei was still naked, sprawled on his stomach, leaning over the end of the bed and tapping his cigarette into an ashtray on the floor. "She won't know. She's not coming back for two months."

Yusuke's head appeared over the edge of the mattress, surprise written across his features. "Really?"

"Yeah, I talked to her yesterday. The companies have decided to merge, and as the," his voice took on a high-pitched sarcastic tone "_Liaison for Foreign Affairs,_" he sighed, "she feels that she has to stay in London until everything is settled. She thinks it'll be two months, but it could be longer."

"Wow." Yusuke was now successful in the sock hunt and set upon the great sneaker search. Glancing sideways at Hiei he asked, "Did you have the usual conversation?"

"If by conversation, you mean she tells me how worthless I am and I tell her I hate her, then yes." A grim smile crossed his face and he ground out the cigarette. "And I have been informed that I am out as of the end of June."

Yusuke dropped his sneaker. "She's throwing you out? Right after graduation? Right after your birthday? I mean, I know you two have never gotten along, but-"

"But if I do manage to pass all my classes and graduate, and that's a big _if_, I'm still not going to college so she feels I need to get a job and get out on my own." Hiei leaned his head in his hand as he continued, "Now that she's sleeping with her boss and has this high-class career, she doesn't want to deal with me anymore. She's away on business practically all the time now, and it's only a matter of time before she moves in with that asshole and sells this place. I am just a complication, something that's holding her back."

Yusuke sat on the bed and put his hand on Hiei's shoulder. "That's not true."

Hiei snorted, eyes on the floor in front of him "The last sentence was a direct quote." Shrugging off Yusuke's hand he rolled over, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, and stood up.

"What about Yukina?"

"Yukina has always been mom's favorite and she's moving in with Kuwabara and Shizuru at the end of the year anyway. Fuck, she practically lives there now." As Hiei spoke, he walked into the bathroom and the last sentence ended with a slam of the bathroom door.

The subject was now closed.

Yusuke sighed and put on his sneakers. _I wonder what he's going to do? I'd let him live with me, but he won't be able to stay at my place once I go to college in the fall, and there isn't any more room at Kuwabara's…not that he'd live there anyway…_

He could hear the sounds of the shower running through the bathroom door.

_I'll figure something out._

Yusuke walked downstairs into the foyer and found his shirt lying in a crumpled ball on the floor. As he picked it up, he noticed that it had become a victim of their mid-afternoon passion.

_Shit! - he ripped it. How am I going to explain this to Keiko?_

* * *

><p>Hiei slammed the bathroom door on Yuskue and immediately turned on the shower; the running water soothed him and also muffled any noise he might make. Grabbing a towel, he stood in front of the sink, staring unseeing into one of the mirrors as he mechanically cleaned the blood off his body. His ass hurt like hell and he swam in the pain, hiding as long as he could within it; pain was the only thing he could feel, and the only thing that made him not feel, a strange and complicated partner in the bleak dance that was his life.<p>

But the dance was over far too soon and his partner left him, giving the heaviness free reign. Hiei could feel it crashing down upon him like a black tar wave and he dropped the towel, sinking to the floor under the weight, clutching his chest as tears began to stream down his face.

He curled up in the corner of the bathroom between the toilet and shower, leaning his head against the cool tiles. Tears quickly turned into choking sobs and he pressed his hand harder against his chest - where he felt the oppressive heaviness the most. It was a destructive dark burden, a lead shroud, encompassing him, smothering him in its embrace, feeding off him and making him its slave. He called it many things, but it really only had one name.

_Depression._

He hiccupped through another sob, then let out a deep shuddering sigh.

_So many years and it never gets better…only worse…_

Sniffling, he stared blankly at the ceiling, and then his trembling lips curved in a melancholy half-smile.

_Thank god it will be over soon._

He got up and dragged himself into the shower, curling up again on the floor near the drain, watching his tears mix with the water as it swirled down and away. He was secretly glad his mother was throwing him out, in the end, she helped him make his decision.

"Hey Hiei! You ripped my shirt you horny bastard!" Yusuke banged on the door. "Can I borrow one of yours?"

Hiei blinked and sighed. Rising to a sitting position, he shouted, "Yeah, just don't take the black one with the dragon on the front!"

He knew he would eventually have to get out of the shower and face Yusuke again. This lover was not the type to just leave without saying goodbye, especially after the recent conversation.

_I wish he wouldn't care so much, it only makes it harder on me._

The mask required so much energy, and he needed more pain if he was to get through the rest of the day. Either that or more sex.

Hiei figured out early on that sex somewhat lightened the burden. In the moments that he felt someone's hands caressing him, their body pressed against his, limbs, sweat, and need mingling and spiraling him into bliss – he actually felt lighter, worthy, loved – even if it was transitory. And it didn't take long before he was mixing sex with pain – creating a pleasurable numbing barrier against his suffering. He was eager to find that sensation whenever and wherever he could get it, and his quest earned him quite the reputation at school.

Not that he cared. Only when everyone else lay smothered under the blanket of depression would they be worthy enough to judge him. Until then, they could fuck off.

Hiei shifted in the shower and sighed again. Pain, he needed more pain. He thought that once he made his decision that things would be easier - as if the choice would ease his suffering - but the weight was still the same.

The only thing it changed was his outlook, now he had something to look forward to.

Opening the door of the shower, he reached out and grabbed a familiar pair of scissors from the top of the bathroom sink. Yukina had left them behind the last time she cut his hair. She always cut his hair and they always used this bathroom, because it had the biggest mirror. He remembered watching the small dark tufts drifting to the floor as Yukina teased him – telling him that with his most recent style he looked like he had jabbed his finger into an electric socket.

Leaning against the shower wall, the three jets were his audience as he opened the scissors and ran the sharp edge down the inside of his left arm.

* * *

><p>Yusuke was staring out of the bedroom window with avid interest when Hiei finally emerged from the bathroom dressed in the clothes he was wearing earlier, long-sleeved shirt easily hiding his arms.<p>

"Your new neighbor is HOT!" Yusuke declared without turning around.

"Hn." Hiei inspected his mother's bed. _Shit, there's blood on the sheets, now I have to wash them._

"No, really, you have to check her out!" Yusuke waved his hand in a 'come over here' gesture, still not taking his eyes off the window.

"Whatever," Hiei said, joining Yusuke at his vantage point.

A moving van was parked across the street, small boxes and other items chaotically placed around it. The truck itself was empty, the larger boxes and most of the furniture having already been brought inside. Movers in dirty navy-blue jumpsuits were on the front lawn shakily handling a very large couch. They flipped it over and around, trying to see how they could best fit it through the door of the condo, while a pleasant-looking older woman stood on the front steps, hands on hips, overseeing their progress.

"I didn't know you were a milf-hunter, Yusuke," Hiei commented sardonically, giving him a sideways glance.

"NOT HER!" Yusuke protested, mock-anger in his eyes as he punched Hiei lightly in the shoulder. Then, turning back to the window, he pointed "_Her._"

Hiei watched as a stunning redhead about his age walked out onto the condo's front lawn, avoiding the movers while inspecting various boxes, obviously trying to figure out what to take inside next. She was dressed in black pants that had seen better days and a tight black sweater with a white shirt poking out underneath. Her hair was such a vibrant crimson that Hiei wondered if that was her true colour, and it flowed down to the middle of her back, where it ended in shiny silver tips.

_Interesting._

Her body was lean and lithe, like a dancer's, and as she turned around to look at the van, Hiei drew in a breath, and then snickered. His new neighbor was certainly attractive, Yusuke was right about that. The redhead had model-like features, skin so white it almost glowed, unearthly green eyes,

And a very flat chest.

"You know that's a guy, right?" Hiei raised an eyebrow at Yusuke and walked over to the bed. "You need glasses."

Yusuke took a step back from the window, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess I do." Then he smirked. "He's still pretty hot though."

"Don't you have to go meet Keiko, like, _now_?" Hiei asked him, beginning to strip the bed.

Yusuke looked at his watch. "FUCK! Yeah, I gotta go. She's gonna kill me. Lately, she's been on this punctuality kick, something about how I have to learn to be on time for classes because in college the professors lock the door once the class starts. You know, bullshit like that."

"Another four years of school?" Hiei had wadded up the sheets into a big ball and was following Yusuke down the stairs to the front door. "I'm still shocked. I never thought you would go to college."

Yusuke shrugged, picking his jacket up off the floor. "It's community college. Besides, it gets me out of Westchester and gets Keiko off my back. What am I gonna do if I stay here?" He zipped up his jacket and opened the front door. "You know Hiei, you really should reconsider, it's not too late to apply-"

"I've got other plans," Hiei cut him off.

"Like what?" Yusuke pressed, standing in the doorway.

Hiei paused, looking at the floor; then, once he was sure his eyes wouldn't betray him, he looked up at Yusuke with a fake smile.

"Let me surprise you." _I'm sorry I can't tell you. You wouldn't understand anyway._

"Fine, whatever." Then Yusuke leaned in, grabbing Hiei by the shoulder, "Promise me you'll be there Saturday." His voice was soft and pleading, his expression vulnerable.

Hiei didn't reply, he wasn't prepared for Yusuke's gentleness, it almost made him feel…guilty.

Yusuke mistook the faltering for indecision and pushed "Hiei, it's my eighteenth birthday, everyone will be there, it's important to me. Please…" his hand tightened on Hiei's shoulder and he pulled the small boy closer until the ball of sheets pressed between them. "It won't be any fun unless you're there."

The mask was slipping, he had to get Yusuke to leave _now._

"Sure, yeah, I'll be there." He mumbled.

"Promise?" Yusuke asked again.

"YES! YES! I'll be there! Now go meet your girlfriend that doesn't put out. Have fun." Hiei shouted at him.

Yusuke smiled, satisfied. "Great! See you in hell tomorrow," he said, referring to that magical place known by others as high school. And with that, he took off running down the street towards his car.

Hiei leaned his head against the doorframe watching Yusuke run, and the mask - battered by innocent concern - fell from his features shattering at his feet. Tears began to stream down his face again as he closed the door.

* * *

><p><em>Great…suburbia…this is thrilling…<em>Kurama sighed, shuffling through the boxes on the front lawn, looking for the few that still had to go to his new room. His mother and the movers were inside, trying to fit the couch through the doorway to the living room and having moderate success.

Looking around, he frowned. _This is like Edward Scissorhands, or some bad 1950's sitcom. There probably isn't even a decent coffee house around here, never mind the nightlife._

But he had agreed to move and he wouldn't give his mother a hard time about the location. It really wasn't her choice – the new job was spectacular, it gave her a chance to move forward, a chance to be happy.

_And she sure has been through enough hell with me. I can endure._ He sat on the back of the empty moving truck and stared as his shoes. _Endure is all I really seem to do these days._

Even within his protective walls of apathy the next few weeks were going to be difficult. Kurama had left the place he grew up in, the few acquaintances that still mattered - friend was not a word he applied to what remained of his social circle - and the fast-paced spiraling energy of Manhattan that he loved so dearly to move to the suburbs with his mother.

It would take awhile to adjust to living here. Suburbia had a quiet desperation about it, as if its inhabitants were gasping for air amongst the choking mist of soccer moms and SUVs. There was a false openness that lured the unsuspecting in with promises of a better life while smothering and confining them once they were trapped within. It replaced your old programming with a _better_hive-minded one – leaving you reaching for something you never really wanted.

Although Shiori had fallen victim to suburbia's silken promises, Kurama was not about to become one of its drones.

And he was not looking forward to starting a new school three and a half months before graduation. The redhead had tried to convince his mother to let him attempt some alternative method: staying in Manhattan with _friends_and finishing up at his high school there, home schooling, dropping out and getting a GED; but she had not wanted to hear any of it. She felt that he was still too unstable to be left alone to live and he had missed too much school over the past two years for her to feel comfortable about the other options.

And although she didn't push him about college, she was insistent that he graduate from high school.

_Besides, honey, the change will be good for you, you'll make new friends. It might help you move on._And her pleading expression made him agree. He didn't want to hurt her anymore.

Kurama was torn from his brooding by a deep voice echoing across the complex.

"YES! YES! I'll be there! Now go meet your girlfriend that doesn't put out. Have fun."

Peering out from around one of the back doors of the van, Kurama spied a boy in a black leather jacket running at top speed down the street.

He smirked. _I wouldn't run that fast for someone who doesn't put out._

Craning his neck, he turned toward the source of the voice. Another boy close to his age stood in the doorway of the condo directly across the street. He held a large dark blue ball of cloth in his arms and his head leaned against the doorframe as he watched his friend run away. Kurama smiled faintly – the boy was cute, almost darkly attractive – pale with large eyes and a shock of black hair that jutted straight out of his head, like he had been a recent victim of electric shock. A bleached-out strip resembling an arched lightning bolt curved across the front of that dark shock of hair, long black bangs falling out underneath, some sweeping into his eyes. He was thin but not unreasonably so, and was dressed mostly in dark colours.

However, there was something about his demeanor that was, for lack of a better word…_off_. It made Kurama want to study him more closely so he curled his legs underneath himself, using them for balance as he gripped the edge of the van's door, leaning forward to get a closer look.

Even from that distance, Kurama could make out the flatness in the boy's eyes, an emptiness that is unrecognizable to those unaffected, but so familiar to those who have lived within it.

_He suffers too…_

And so Kurama wasn't surprised when he saw tears begin to stream down the small boy's face as he turned back into the house and closed the door, never realizing that he was being watched.

Kurama ran a hand through his long hair. _I guess I was right._ He tried to suppress his curiosity; at the same time he did and didn't want to know. He felt a strange kinship to anyone struck by that kind of pain, but it often left him feeling twice as bad and shamefully stupid when he reached out to them. Earlier attempts had taught him that misery _does not_love company.

"Shuuichi," his mother appeared at the front door, "can you help me with the shelves in the bedroom?"

"Sure." Kurama unfolded his legs and jumped off the back of the van. He briefly turned around to look across the street with a considering look, then shrugged his shoulders and turned back, following his mother into the house.


	2. March 3rd, 2005

~Author's Note~

-Warnings: Graphic Lemon, Yaoi, BDSM, Toys, Blood, Voyeurism, Self-Mutilation, and lots of angst.  
>-This is a KuramaHiei story but Hiei does get around. Pairings this chapter: Karasu/Hiei  
>-This story is alternate universe and takes place in Westchester County, NY which is about 1 hour north of Manhattan.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"I had tried so hard for many years to turn all my despair into sexual abandon, I wanted so much to stop being me and start being someone else's toy…"<em>  
><strong>Prozac Nation<strong>  
>Elizabeth Wurtzel<p>

**Chapter 2: March 3rd, 2005**

"Oh my God! Did you see the new guy?" Botan squealed, her light blue ponytail swinging back and forth as she bounded across the lunchroom toward her friends. Dropping her books on the lunch table with a loud _thud_, she plopped down next to Keiko and snatched Yusuke's soda out of his hand, swallowing a large amount of it while ignoring the stream of curses that he hurled at her.

"Thanks Yusuke, I was parched!" she giggled, turning to Yukina and Keiko, who were watching her with mild curiosity and amusement. "So? Did you see him?"

Yusuke stole his soda back, staring at it as if it had been cursed, while the two girls shook their heads.

"Is he cute?" Keiko asked. "We could definitely use more cute guys around here."

"HEY!" Yusuke pouted, "What the hell am I?"

"No kidding," Botan agreed, ignoring Yusuke as he whined and sulked. Yukina leaned her head against Kuwabara as she listened to the conversation, and the larger boy wrapped an arm around her lovingly. Hiei was two seats away from them resting his head in his arms on the table, every once in awhile looking up with an expression that reaffirmed his disinterest, then dropping his head back down.

Botan leaned closer to Keiko with a royal air, as if the latest gossip made her privileged and important. "His name is Shuuichi Minamino. Koto gave him the grand tour this morning." Botan raised an eyebrow and made a face at the mention of the other girl's name; those two never did get along. "He's from the city, moved here a few days ago. He's a senior, raging hot, nice body, green eyes, and he has this great hair-"

"Red with silver tips, right?" Hiei's voice was muffled by his arms. The entire crew, minus Yusuke, turned to look at him in shock; not only was it rare for Hiei to speak, but for him to know something that Botan didn't - and she was gossip's loud-mouthed but good-natured queen after all…

"How the hell do you know that?!" she practically shrieked.

Hiei raised his head and scowled. "He moved in across the street from me."

"Well then, I guess we'll be spending more time at your house Hiei," Botan replied with a smirk.

"Hn." Hiei dropped his head back down.

"Silver tips?" Keiko asked. "That's pretty cool. I wonder how he gets it that way."

Yukina shifted away from Kuwabara and toward the girls. "It's very hard to do, you see, first you have to strip the natural colour…" and the tiny girl went into detail about hair texture and the basics of hair dye while her two friends listened with rapt attention.

An admiring smile spread across Kuwabara's face as he watched his diminutive girlfriend launch into yet another hair-care oriented speech. Still beaming, he turned to Yusuke, saying, "She's going to make the perfect beautician."

"Colorist!" all three girls chorused, proving that their hearing was very selective.

"Sorry ladies." Kuwabara grinned sheepishly at them before turning back to Yusuke "_Colorist…_"

"Well, with hair like that," Yusuke gestured toward Yukina's seafoam green locks that were today pulled into a French braid, wisps elegantly framing her heart-shaped face. Staring at his girlfriend, Kuwabara resisted the urge to pull her into a breathless kiss.

_Four years and I love her more every day._

He smiled again. The entire group had been friends since grade school but over the years a gentle love had developed between the large carrot-topped lacrosse player and the gentle girl. They became inseparable as soon as they entered high school, establishing themselves as the school's long term couple, and during the past year Yukina had gradually moved in with Kuwabara and his sister Shizuru. He didn't mind in the least - she was a great help to his sister, and the pleasant energy that always surrounded her now filled their small apartment. He loved waking up every morning to the sound of her voice and the smell of her cooking and hoped it would never end. After graduation, Kuwabara planned on commuting to Veterinary School and Yukina was looking into becoming a _colorist_.

The smile faded a little as Kuwabara glanced at Hiei. The sullen boy had never voiced his disapproval for their relationship, but he had not voiced his approval either, choosing the most direct path to disinterest and apathy whenever the subject of Kuwabara and Yukina came up; however, Kuwabara didn't take it too much to heart since that was the way Hiei reacted to most things. The twins were polar opposites, the only things that marked them as siblings being their small stature and unusual dark brown eyes that appeared almost red in certain lights. Where Yukina was gentle Hiei was harsh, where she was peaceful with a genuine smile for all, he was dour, surly, unhappy at best.

Where she was Kuwabara's virtuous queen, Hiei was, well…

_Experienced._

"Earth to Kuwabara!" Yusuke called, snapping his fingers in front of the tall boy's face. "What's the answer?"

Kuwabara blinked a few times and focused on his friend. "The answer to what?"

Yusuke frowned. "I asked you if you could give short stack a lift to my house on Saturday." He gestured toward Hiei who, at the mention of _short stack_, slipped his left arm out from under his head and without looking up, gave Yusuke the finger.

Kuwabara glanced from Hiei to Yusuke. "Why can't he go home with you after school on Friday? You could use the help to set up for the party."

"Keiko says she's got something special planned on Friday night, something about my birthday gift." At the mention of her name, Keiko looked over at Yusuke and winked. He gave her a lopsided grin before looking back to Kuwabara. "Come on, I won't have time to pick him up on Saturday."

"Sure, sure, why not?" The carrot-top shrugged, reaching for his drink and finding it empty. "Urameshi, give me some of your soda."

"I'd watch it Kuwabara, it probably still tastes like stockbroker dick from before." Yusuke gave Botan a pointed look; she was so sensitive about the new boyfriend - especially since he was her boss - and it was so much fun to tease her.

"YUSUKE!" Botan and Keiko shrieked, both leaning over to punch him – Botan connected with his shoulder, Keiko with a solid hook to the jaw. As Yusuke tumbled backwards off his seat, landing hard on the cafeteria floor, Hiei stood up with a sigh.

"I'm going outside for a cigarette." Not looking at any of them, he shoved his hands in his pockets and left.

* * *

><p>"I've missed you Hiei. It's been far too long," a soft, yet patronizing voice purred from behind him. Hiei fumbled in shock, almost dropping his cigarette as hands slipped around his waist, pulling him backwards against a lean but muscular body. He shivered a little as an obvious erection pressed into his butt, and two very skillful hands explored the contours of his chest.<p>

"Up for a little fun?" the voice whispered seductively, hot breath caressing his ear. Hiei chuckled, grinding his ass a little into the one behind him. They were in a secluded area around the back of the school that Hiei always used as a smoking lounge, no one could see them and only a select few knew about that spot, including one sadistically horny classmate.

"Are you sure I won't wear you out Karasu?"

A hand grabbed Hiei's face, wrenching it to the side so he could look into the violet gaze of the one behind him.

"I don't think so," Karasu whispered across Hiei's lips. Then, gripping the boy's face tighter, he forced him into a bruising kiss. Hiei groaned and melted into the hard embrace as Karasu's tongue snaked past his lips. Sucking on the invading muscle, Hiei quickly spun around, pressing his body against the dark boy. His cigarette fell to the ground, forgotten, as his hands wound through that thick blue-black hair, and he wrapped a leg around Karasu as well, all the while writhing and moaning into the kiss.

It had been a draining day, and Karasu had a lovely way of mixing pain and pleasure that always left Hiei feeling lighter.

The bell rang, its scathing sound echoing across the campus. Karasu pulled away, tearing a confused cry from Hiei at the lack of contact. Disentangling the smaller boy's hands from his hair, Karasu smirked and ran a thumb over Hiei's lips.

"Orchestra practice room. Eighth period. Be there." Karasu began to walk away, but tossed one more sultry promise over his shoulder. "Don't be late. I've got some _surprises_for you."

And in a swish of gothic elegance, he was gone.

Hiei's legs wobbled a little and he leaned against the brick wall of the school while lighting another cigarette, amused to find that his hands shook as well.

_Damn, he can still make me go from zero to sixty in three seconds flat._

There was no way around it; Karasu was stunning, dangerous, and darkly seductive. With hair that fell like a blue-black curtain to his waist, piercing violet eyes, milk white skin graced with regal features, and his vampiric wardrobe, Karasu was often the object of attraction at their school. Many a girl pursued the enigmatic Karasu unaware that he was only interested in two things: beautiful boys and rough sex.

Hiei filled both of those interests wonderfully.

It had started two years ago at Chu's house party; Hiei had been reluctant to go but eventually tagged along to keep an eye on Yukina. As usual, by midnight his friends were painfully drunk and Hiei was sulking in the corner – bored, irritated, and wanting to go home.

It took him a few moments to realize that someone was staring at him from across the room. As Hiei's eyes met Karasu's the gothic boy curved his lips in a sultry smirk.

Hiei raised an eyebrow, his scowl softening a bit. They traveled in different circles but Hiei knew who Karasu was. Their high school was too small for them not to have passed each other in the halls dozens of times, and Karasu had quite the reputation – not as colorful as Hiei's but far more sensually disturbing.

At that time, rumours were flying that Karasu's latest _boyfriend_had a nervous breakdown and needed to transfer to a new school. He cracked under Karasu's demented demeanor; he couldn't take the strain.

At that point, Hiei wondered if the gothic freak might be an interesting distraction in what he considered an already wasted evening.

_Maybe its time I had some fun myself._

As Karasu wound his way through the crowd Hiei lost the scowl, putting the glint of sexuality in his eyes and licking his lips.

There were no words exchanged, no introductions. Karasu just placed a hand on the wall behind Hiei and leaned in, brushing his lips with a quick kiss. Then he turned around, his long black coat billowing out behind him as he crossed the room and went upstairs, casting a meaningful look over his shoulder before he disappeared from sight.

Hiei glanced back at his friends - who were far too wasted to notice the exchange – and headed for the stairs.

That night, Hiei spent hours shivering under the gothic boy's touch, brought to the pinnacles of ecstasy again and again as Karasu mixed pain and pleasure with tortuous expertise. Karasu played Hiei like an instrument, deft hands tuning him, knowing just how to pull the strings to make the most beautiful music. He was sure the rest of the party could hear his wanton cries, his agonized screams, his desperate pleas for more, but he didn't care.

It was exactly what he needed.

That was the first night of many. Karasu had a severe way about him, a malevolent sexuality that Hiei loved and despised but wanted so very much. And Karasu hadn't had a plaything in awhile that could take all he could inflict and more, especially one that loved every minute of it.

Their _relationship_was purely sexual and very experimental. There wasn't a toy they didn't try, a place they didn't soil, or a time when they ever refused one another; the agreement was that it would end as soon as one of them became bored.

And that hadn't happened yet.

As Hiei spiraled further and further into the depths of depression, Karasu drifted lower and lower into the bowels of depravity, equally matching Hiei's desperation with his own twisted desires. For Hiei, it was a perfect arrangement; Karasu wasn't as warm as Yusuke but he asked no questions, cared nothing at all about Hiei's state of mind, and the lack of emotional attachment made things so much easier.

Eighth period couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

><p>"You're the new student, Shuuichi Minamino, right?" a soft voice broke through Kurama's comfortable haze.<p>

The redhead suppressed a groan. _How small_ is _this school?_

It seemed that being the new student gained Kurama a lot of unwanted attention. He had spent most of his first day on the receiving end of curious stares and probing questions and had hidden in the back of the library during his free period trying to flee the spotlight. Obviously he wasn't too successful.

_I guess these people don't get out much._

Kurama might be apathetic but he wasn't rude. Plastering a fake smile on his face, he turned toward the source of his interruption.

And the fake smile turned into a genuine one.

The girl that stood before him was small, but very pretty. She had large, deep brown eyes, mint-coloured hair, and a quiet calming air about her that reminded him of his mother.

"Nice hair," he stated with a tilt of his head.

"I was just about to say the same thing," she replied. Kurama gestured toward the seat next to him and she sat with an easy grace, holding out her hand.

"Yukina."

"Call me Kurama," he said, shaking her hand. At her confused expression he added. "I don't really like Shuuichi, it's too…" he searched for the right word.

"Too much like your mother still dresses you?" she finished.

He grinned. "Yes, something like that."

Suddenly, Yukina glanced around as if she were looking for spies, then leaned over conspiratorially. "I hear…" her voice was hushed, with a sarcastic seriousness, "that you're living on Gomer Street."

He raised an eyebrow and played along. "So, I see you have your informants. Do you know what I had for breakfast too? I'm sure that kind of knowledge goes for quite a bit of cash around here."

She snickered, breaking the charade. "Actually, you moved in across the street from me."

"I don't remember seeing you-"

"Well, technically that's still my place, but I've been staying with my boyfriend and his sister on the other side of town. Just my brother and my mom really live there now."

"Your brother…does he have black hair with a bleached strip through the front?" he asked, looking at her eyes. That boy he saw in the doorway had the same eyes but his were full of pain. Hers had an openness about them, a kindness that made him feel peaceful and more connected.

"Yeah!" she replied, a little too loudly for the library. A shushing sound came from across the room and her voice was much more subdued when she spoke again. "He's my twin, I do his hair too, and that stripe is not easy."

_Thunk!_

Five books dropped down on the table in front of them, and they both looked up into Botan's very amused face.

"As I live and breathe!" she exclaimed, ignoring the hisses and whispered threats as her voice echoed across the library. "You're Shuuichi, the new guy, right?" She sat down next to Kurama, who just stared at her.

Yukina leaned over. "That's Botan, she's harmless." At that comment, Botan gave Kurama a wide smile and they shook hands.

"And just incase you're wondering," Yukina added, "I do her hair too."

Botan wound her hand around her light blue ponytail for emphasis, tugging on it a little. "So, Shuucihi-"

"Kurama," he interrupted. Botan shot him a questioning look, and Yukina gave her a slight shake of the head, their signal that she would tell Botan everything later in _post-Kurama analysis._

"So _Kurama,_" the blue-haired girl continued. "There's a party at my friend Yusuke's house this Saturday." A very serious expression crossed her face. "You should be there."

Kurama hedged. The nightlife here did suck - there was no doubt about that - but he wasn't ready to go to some random party and socialize with a bunch of people he didn't know. He'd rather brood in a coffee house or sit in the dark corner of a club, losing himself in the music and the lights…

Or lie in bed and pretend that those strong warm arms were still locked around him, never letting go.

"Well?" Botan pressed.

"I-I don't know," Kurama stuttered. He didn't like when people pressured him.

"That's enough Botan," Yukina cut in. "He'll come if he wants to." Then she smiled softly at the redhead and he began to relax. "It's Yusuke's eighteenth birthday, you'd get to meet a lot of really nice people."

The bell rang and the three of them got up. Botan gathered her books, which were scattered haphazardly across the table, and trailed behind the other two as they left the library.

"Think about it," Yukina added once they were in the hallway. "We're picking up my brother at eight o'clock - you can get a ride with us."

She smiled softly at Kurama again as they parted ways and he surprised himself by actually considering it.

* * *

><p>The school's basement, or what Yusuke affectionately called <em>The Ninth Circle of Hell,<em>was a windowless hallway that housed the gym, the boiler room, and the music wing - which was really just a small collection of isolated, well-padded classrooms. At that time of day the basement was a virtual ghost town and Hiei could hear his footsteps echoing through the hall, the sound of each step leaving him only to bounce off the walls and return to him again.

He reached the orchestra practice room as the late bell rang, and slipped inside, looking around the dark classroom with a smirk.

_I'm glad this place is soundproofed._

This wasn't the first time Hiei had met his gothic lover there for an afternoon snack. As a senior and first chair in violin, Karasu had access to the practice rooms when no one else did, and he used it to his fullest advantage. Over the last six months, they had screwed on almost every available surface in the three classrooms, the thrill of getting caught only heightening the lust, deepening the carnality.

Hiei's eyes were drawn to one of the practice suites at the back of the multi-leveled classroom.

The only suite with a light on.

The only suite that had Karasu sitting behind a large wooden desk, a black book bag at his feet.

The only suite that would give Hiei reprieve.

Lonely, battered instruments were his only witnesses as Hiei crossed the room, ready to forget everything under Karasu's harsh ministrations, ready to rid himself of his agony…

Ready to rid himself of himself.

Karasu didn't move at all as Hiei entered the suite; he just seared the smaller boy with his gaze as Hiei closed the door behind him, pulling the shade over the small plastic window in the door at the same time.

With an extra sway in his hips, Hiei walked over to the desk, leaning over it temptingly while staring into Karasu's eyes with fierce anticipation and unbridled lust.

"You should fuck me twice as much before you go on a band trip," Hiei stated in a sultry voice, "I don't like waiting for you."

Karasu and the rest of the school's orchestra had spent the last week at some performance venue in New Jersey and Yusuke did not have the ability to pick up Karasu's slack. Despite Hiei's teasing tone, lately his needs were more vital and without sexual fulfillment he had spent most of yesterday slicing up his left arm in the shower again. His long-sleeved shirt hid most of the damage; only a slight bulge from the bandages could be seen by those who were more discerning and, thankfully, none of his friends were too observant today.

Karasu stared back at Hiei in silence, fingers steepled in front of him, that malevolent gaze not flickering at all. Finally, with exaggerated grace, he stood and picked up his bag, putting it on the chair in front of him.

Hiei leaned forward a little more, raising an eyebrow when he caught a glimpse of what was inside. "I can't believe you've been carrying that stuff around in your book bag all day, you _freak._"

Karasu gave him a sideways glance, still silent as he shuffled through the bag, removing a few objects and putting them aside.

Then, in a flash, Karasu was around the front of the desk, pressing himself against Hiei and fisting a hand in his soft dark hair. Pulling the smaller boy's head at a sharp angle, he reveled in Hiei's cry of shock and pain.

Karasu's eyes glinted, his heart began to pound.

_This is going to be a very enjoyable session._

Pressing his body even harder against the smaller boy, he turned Hiei's head by the hair until those brown eyes focused on him.

"Strip," he ordered, "and get on the desk."

* * *

><p><em>Why do people think it's funny to give the new guy wrong directions?<em>

Kurama had just spent the better part of twenty minutes looking for his English class. Earlier, he had stopped a younger boy playing with a yo-yo in the hall, probably a freshman, and asked him where room 213 was, and the boy had told him that all English classes were held on the bottom floor.

Kurama chided himself for being so stupid. Now, he was wandering around the lower level of the school trying to find anyone else to ask – or even a stairwell - and wondering if he should just screw it all and go home.

_It's last period anyway, and it's not like there won't be class tomorrow._

He came to a halt outside of the music office; running a hand through his hair, he looked around in frustration.

_Is anyone even down here at this time of day?_

There were no gym classes after seventh period and all music classes were held in the morning, so Kurama was a lone figure in an empty corridor.

He sighed. _I'm tired of this, I'm going home._

Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he pushed off the wall and began to look for a stairwell again when an unusual noise caught his attention.

It sounded like a distant muffled scream.

Halting in mid-stride, Kurama remained stock-still, waiting to see if he would hear it again.

About five seconds later another scream much like the first, but longer and more agonized, rushed toward Kurama, letting him know that he wasn't alone.

_What the hell is_that? Kurama turned toward the source of the noise; it was coming from one of the music rooms.

Moving slowly, Kurama approached the classroom. The door was closed, the room behind it dark, but as Kurama waited outside he heard the scream again.

Smirking, he raised an eyebrow.

_That's not a scream of pain, that's a scream of pleasure._

He peered through long narrow plastic window in the door and saw nothing but the shadows of instruments. Faint outlines of doorways lined the far side of the room, and Kurama thought he saw a glimmer of light coming from one of them.

Testing the doorknob, he found that the door wasn't locked. Kurama hesitated for a moment, unsure if he wanted to eavesdrop or not, when another scream filled the air around him. The redhead felt a shiver run up his spine, a warm sensation following in its wake.

The scream had sounded so _wanton_. It made him very curious, and a little intrigued.

_Maybe this place isn't so boring after all._ A fleeting smile crossed Kurama's face. _This gives a whole new meaning to the term_ oral examination. _I wonder if all the music classes are this hands-on._

Opening the door, he moved soundlessly into the classroom. Gently placing his bag behind one of the pianos at the entrance, he crept along the front wall, heading toward a small practice room at the back, the source of the light and sound. The door to that single room was closed, a shade drawn over its window; however, that shade – like most school equipment – had seen better days, and as Kurama came closer he found that there was a long ragged tear through its center.

And with his approach, sound also resolved into something more substantial, more easily understood. Kurama discovered that the screams which drew him were alternating with moans, and the moans were answers to a one-sided conversation.

"So, you like that, my little slave?" The voice was soft, yet menacing, and Kurama sensed a patronizing tone lining the words as well.

A loud groan was the only answer.

"Do you think you can handle more?" The question was obviously rhetorical. Kurama took a few more silent steps forward and, leaning against the doorframe, he peered through the tear in the shade.

And his breath hitched.

The scene before him was brutal, perverse, disturbing but yet…_beautiful._

A very attractive gothic boy sat with dominant poise before a large wooden desk. His legs were crossed, and with the one foot that touched the floor he turned the seat of his chair back and forth with elegant ease, each swivel causing his long dark hair to swing in an arc, almost brushing the floor behind him. He was well-dressed, the violet shirt that perfectly matched his eyes only slightly unbuttoned, hinting at the smooth white skin underneath. A well-worn riding crop with a silver _K_emblazoned on the handle stood upright against his left arm and shoulder, and in his right hand he held a long black remote, which he caressed lightly with his thumb as he stared in obvious hunger at the delicious meal laid before him.

On hands and knees across the top of the desk - bound, breached, shivering, sweating and obviously loving every minute of it – was Yukina's brother, the boy Kurama had watched on his first day here.

The boy Kurama couldn't seem to stop watching.

The display went beyond the realm of simple experimentation; the boy was a well-trussed prize, prone to the whims of his gothic master. A length of black rope, expertly tied in complicated knots, bound the small boy's arms from wrist to elbow. An almost too-short length of the same rope connected his wrists with the tight black collar around his neck, forcing his head to bow a little and his back to arch. He was covered in a thick sheen of sweat, his white skin practically glowing under the harsh lighting, creating a striking contrast to the red welts that decorated his back and buttocks. The round cheeks of his ass were marred with ragged scratches as well, and Kurama realized that the boy's agony was layered with painful precision, as his vampiric lover must have struck the area until it was red, then dragged his nails across the burning flesh.

_That explains some of the screaming._

The small boy's mouth was slightly open, tear-streaked face a visage of frightened pleasure, eyes wide and focused on his master with a helpless desperate need. His legs were not bound; instead, they were spread as widely as possible, almost hovering over the edges of the desk. Thin trails of blood ran from his entrance down the backs of both thighs, evidence that he had been cruelly penetrated by the large black dildo that was still deeply lodged in his ass.

_And that explains the rest of it…_

Kurama blinked and shook his head, his mind trying to resolve the rawness of the images before him. Quickly, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone as he eavesdropped, but a wailing plea snared his attention, snapping his gaze back to the erotic display.

"P-p-please Karasu," the boy gasped in a frantic high-pitched whine, euphoria edging his voice.

"Please _what_, Hiei?" Karasu feigned ignorance, taping his index finger against the end of the remote.

Kurama held his breath, fascinated. _Hiei, his name is Hiei…._

"P-please, m-more. I w-w-want m-more." Hiei tried to raise his head, but the ropes held him in place and he jerked a little, almost falling off the desk.

Karasu made no move to help him, only smiled and said, "As you wish."

And with a flick of his thumb, he clicked a button on the remote.

A dim buzz filled the room; Hiei reared his head back as far as it could go and screamed in ecstasy. Karasu's toy was already pressing against his sweet spot and the vibrations sent waves of pure bliss straight through his tortured body, making his limbs run hot, then cold as they struggled to support him.

"So, I guess you like my surprise," Karasu stated. Standing, he laid the riding crop in the chair and positioned himself in front of Hiei, gently running a hand through the boy's hair. Hiei leaned into the touch despite the fact that he was almost mindless with pleasure and Karasu chuckled.

"You're always such a needy little whore, aren't you?" His voice was like velvet over steel, and Kurama shivered a bit on his side of the door. The fingers that threaded softly through Hiei's hair tightened, and Karasu forced the boy to look into his eyes. "So easy to punish and please…"

Placing the remote on the desk next to Hiei's bound arms, Karasu unzipped his pants.

"You take it all…everything I give you." Karasu was almost speaking to himself; his eyes never left Hiei's but his gaze was turned inward, almost as if he was lost in the lustful reaches of his own mind.

Kurama winced. There was no love in this display and the need went far beyond the borders of companionship or satiation. After seeing the pain in Hiei's eyes that first day, Kurama had no doubt about the motives surrounding this relationship - if that's what it could be called - and he was curious to see if Hiei's methods were successful.

_We all have our own ways of dealing with our pain, some more desperate than others._Kurama looked down at his arms with regretful sorrow, the thin material of his sweater mocking him, reminding him that the memories were still so close.

A long, drawn out moan echoed through the classroom. Tears were streaming down Hiei's face again as he begged, "M-more, Karasu. M-Make it g-g-go fast-er!"

Karasu smirked and pulled his cock out of his pants, it was a dark angry red - almost purple – and fluid glistened thickly at the tip. Using the hand still fisted in those short dark locks, Karasu dragged Hiei closer by the hair.

"Show me just how much you want it," Karasu growled down at him. For emphasis, he slapped the small boy in the face with his cock, leaving a sticky smear across his cheek. "Prove it to me, and I'll see about your request."

Without hesitation, Hiei leaned forward and took Karasu to the root, engulfing him with a muffled moan. Karasu threw his head back with a sharp breath, one hand on the edge of the desk for support, the other still in Hiei's hair. The smaller boy sucked and bobbed with enthusiasm, cheeks sinking in with applied pressure, tongue swirling around the large shaft from base to head. As he worked, he made tiny choking noises which turned into sloppy groans, and saliva dripped from his chin to form a small puddle on the floor.

Kurama's blood began to race, his dormant sexuality cutting through layers of dust-coated solitude and ennui. For the first time in two years he felt the glimmer of need. He wanted to be the one that boy came to, wanted to be Hiei's source of pleasure, wanted to feel those desperate hands as they reached for him, touched him…

Shaking his head, Kurama tried to banish those thoughts; he had made promises, promises he had to keep.

_It's bad enough that I've broken one already…Christ, I haven't even spoken to this guy yet, I need to go home._

Kurama was about to turn away, but the third act started and he was drawn in once again by the stirring performance.

Karasu, who was eerily silent during Hiei's efforts, suddenly gasped and pulled away. Although he tried to convey an air of aloof sensuality, he was slightly disheveled, chest heaving as he fought for control. Hiei had an extremely talented mouth, never failing to push Karasu right to the brink of pleasure and keep him there, spinning so close to the edge.

But Karasu did not want to take the plunge just yet, he wanted Hiei writhing underneath him, an eager victim of his sordid whims. There was something about his slave that begged to be taken and Karasu was never one to ignore such a tempting offer.

Hiei was gasping, body trembling in synch with the vibrations still searing his passage. Picking up the remote again, Karasu walked around the side of the desk, running a finger along Hiei's spine as he did so.

"Such a good little slave. Would you like a reward?" He tapped the remote against Hiei's ass. The boy tried to turn his head toward his master, but the bonds resisted the movement and he flopped forward a little, no longer able to hold himself up on his arms.

"Y-yesss…" Hiei hissed, his forehead now resting on the desk. He wiggled his ass a little. "M-make it g-go fa-"

Karasu clicked a button on the remote before Hiei finished the sentence. The dim buzz increased, becoming more high-pitched. Kurama barely made out the difference before the sound was drowned out by Hiei's keening wail.

"-STEEEERR! YESYESYES!_FUCK_OHGOD!"

The redhead flinched, looking around the room behind him again.

_How can nobody hear that? He's so loud!_

Turning back, Kurama studied the small boy in wonder. Hiei's head was slightly tossed back again, his entire body shivering with delight. Drops of sweat beaded on his white skin, plastering tendrils of hair to his forehead and temples, his lips were swollen and parted, and his eyelids fluttered as those large brown eyes rolled back into his head. He was small, and now that he was naked Kurama found that Hiei was almost too thin, but he was fierce in his frailty, energy spiraling off him in a mix of insane sexuality and reckless desperation.

He was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic to watch.

_And so beautiful…_

"Enough!" Karasu dropped the remote, roughly pulling the dildo out of Hiei's ass and tossing it over his shoulder; it bounced once, leaving a bloody smear on the floor's faded white tiles. Hiei cried out from the immediate loss but was quickly distracted as Karasu grabbed him by the right shoulder and leg, flipping him over. Hiei's abused back and buttocks slammed against the rough wooden surface of the desk, sending a stinging wave through his body and he howled in blissful agony.

So much pain, it was incredible. And there was still more to come.

With a hand under each leg, Karasu tugged Hiei to the end of the desk, forcing the boy's back to slide harshly along the wood again, smiling as the howl resolved into choking sobs. Leaning over his slave until they were face to face, Karasu reached between them, wrapping his fingers around Hiei's cock and giving it a tight squeeze. The boy's breath caught and he arched into the rough touch as much as possible, his bound arms brushing against Karasu's chest.

"You want me to fuck you?" Karasu whispered across his lips.

Tears dripped from Hiei's cheeks as he nodded, mouthing a weak, "Y-yes."

"Beg for it." Karasu squeezed the swollen shaft in his hand a little bit harder, wrenching a wheezing gasp from the boy below.

Hiei could hardly form a coherent thought; searing pain enveloped his body from all angles, within and without. He could barely tell where the sensations were coming from but that didn't matter – he no longer felt the heaviness, the despair. It was all burned away by the exquisite pain.

And all he knew was that he didn't want it to stop. This was the only time he truly felt alive, and it was wonderful. He almost smiled, but a rough tug on his body focused him, and he blinked, staring into the malevolent violet eyes of his master.

Within that wicked gaze was the promise of more.

"P-p-please," Hiei managed to choke out. "P-please, I w-want it." He twisted slightly underneath Karasu, trying to rub against him as much as possible but Karasu held him still, tightening the grasp on his cock even more and white arcs of light shot across Hiei's vision as he froze, barely able to let out a final plea.

"Mooooreee…" The hopeless need in the small boy's voice was almost tangible, and Kurama cringed.

Unfeeling as ever, Karasu only chuckled, letting go of the boy's shaft and moving his slave so that a thin white leg was slung over each shoulder. Hiei let out a long shuddering sigh as the tight grip on his cock was released, then watched with wide expectant eyes as Karasu adjusted him. Hiei's slight frame and the fact that he went boneless when pleasured allowed Karasu to place the boy in any position he desired. They had tried it all, but Karasu's dominant nature often brought him back to this favourite. He liked to look into Hiei's eyes as he took him, so he could fuck not only the boy's body, but his mind as well.

Leaning over Hiei until the boy was practically bent in half, Karasu aligned himself with the stretched and blood-slicked passage, staring directly into those strange brown orbs.

"Scream for me," he ordered, and plunged in.

"AAHHHHHHHH! FUCK _YES_!" Hiei's body arched, and his head, which had been bent forward in anticipation, fell back with a loud _crack_against the desk, the sound easily reaching Kurama's ears.

The redhead twitched in discomfort. _This is insane. Why am I watching this?_

Unconsciously he already new the answer.

_To see how far it goes._

Gentleness being a foreign concept, Karasu did not wait for Hiei to adjust to the intrusion; instead, he slammed into the boy with savage ferocity, the black curtain of his hair rippling around them, sweat dripping from his brow. Although Kurama did not think it was possible, Hiei became louder, his shrill drawn-out screams often ending in strangled sobs. Occasionally, the smaller boy tried to string words together, but it all came out in gibberish as his body was mercilessly pounded into the desk.

The driving rhythm became faster, Karasu pressing against Hiei until his knees were practically pinned to his ears. No matter how many times they fucked, or what foreplay brought, Hiei was still unbelievably tight, and Karasu growled as that small fiery hole gripped him, pulling him in further. Long white fingers pressed into Hiei's pelvis, leaving behind bruises as Karasu plunged deeper, slamming directly into the one place that made Hiei forget his name.

"I-I-I'm gun..ggyu…go-nna…." Hiei began to seize, frantically twisting his bound arms, sweat streaming off his body, and Karasu reached between them, grabbing the base of Hiei's cock and giving it another vicious squeeze.

"YOU DO NOT," he snarled, "come until I say you can."

Hiei mewled in protest, but was not capable of much else as his body was continuously ravaged, electric jolts of pleasure shooting through him with each thrust, the need for release coiling within and causing a pressure that made him almost insane. Karasu was relentless, the speed and friction never ceasing, the firm grip on Hiei's shaft never wavering, his violet eyes boring into the senseless brown orbs of his slave as the promise of an earth-shattering orgasm wound through him, starting in his limbs and eventually centering in his groin, a spiraling ball of heat ready to surge at any moment.

Hiei's legs started to go numb, black spots swam at the edges of his vision; he could no longer hold Karasu's gaze and all that could be seen were the whites of his eyes as they rolled up into his head again. The wails and wracking sobs suddenly ceased, but Hiei's mouth stayed open in a silent scream, his body and mind jerking with each thrust, completely lost in the moment as he swam in a sea of pressurized pleasure, his release imminent but still so far out of reach.

The liquid warmth that gathered in Karasu's groin began to engulf him, and releasing Hiei's shaft, he cried out -

"NOW, COME NOW!"

Hiei's body spasmed and twitched, and with a hoarse cry he came violently, almost blacking out as his essence streamed from him in short bursts, coating his stomach and Karasu's shirt. His head tilted back as far as it could go while still being held by the bonds, and as his vision wavered, Hiei could have sworn he saw someone watching them through the tear in the shade. Someone with green eyes.

_Wh-what? Who is that?_His brain was foggy and muddled from the orgasm, and he was easily distracted as Karasu savagely thrust into him twice more before freezing, head thrown back, a long moan the only sound he made as he came, his own orgasm deliciously ripped from him by the vacuum-like pull of Hiei's cavern.

Kurama forgot to breathe as Hiei's eyes locked onto him. _Shit, he saw me!_ He ducked, looking around in a panic. _I've got to leave!_Still slightly hunched over, he crossed the classroom heading for the main door, his steps hurried but silent. The prickling surge of adrenaline stung his arms and legs as he glanced back, expecting two angry boys to burst out of the suite at any moment and confront him; however, the door to the room remained closed, as if he hadn't been discovered. Making it to the piano where he left his bag, Kurama reached behind it, freezing in place as voices from the small room began to drift towards him.

"That…that was-" Hiei was still breathless.

"Your arm is bleeding," Karasu interrupted. There was no concern in the statement at all, it was an emotionless observation.

_Didn't he see me?_Kurama hesitated, staring back at the room, his curiosity still not sated. He was fascinated by Hiei and it scared him a little.

"Hn. You have a keen sense for the obvious. What do you care?" Hiei's voice was raspy from screaming, but Kurama did not miss the heavy layer of disdain in its husk. It was as if someone had thrown a switch and the lust and carnality that had filled the tiny room vanished, replaced by mild loathing and contempt.

Against his better judgment Kurama moved closer to them again, ready to bolt at a second's notice.

"Actually, I _don't_ care," Karasu replied quickly. "I think it's amusing." Speaking in a high-pitched mocking tone, as if he were addressing a five year-old, the gothic boy taunted "_My poor little depressed Hiei, are we cutting ourselves now?_"

"Fuck you."

"No, I think I just fucked _you._"

_Cutting?_Kurama found himself back outside the door, easily pulled into the scene again. Hiei was still naked on top of the desk but in a sitting position, the long strands of rope that bound him now untied, black coils spilling from the desk to the floor. His left arm had been bandaged beneath the bonds, but the savageness of the tryst had opened the wound underneath, and a large patch of red was slowly spreading through the white gauze and seeping out, running in thin crimson streams to his elbow and dripping onto the desk below.

Karasu had buttoned his pants and was trying to clean the evidence of their activities off the bottom of his shirt with a towel. His eyebrow was raised, lips curved in a thin derisive smirk. Hiei stared at him with hatred while removing the dog collar, which left a perfect red imprint around his neck.

"Asshole," he muttered, getting off the desk. His legs wobbled a bit as they touched the floor and for a second Kurama thought they were going to buckle, but the small boy clung to the edge of the desk, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself and regain his balance.

Karasu approached, standing behind Hiei as he faltered. The gothic boy made no move to assist him, only watched in amusement before draping the towel over Hiei's shoulder.

"You're getting thin," he remarked, starting to collect the various items strewn about the room.

Hiei took the towel with a glare, sopping up the blood on his arm first, then bending down to gather his clothes. His back was still marred with red welts and his buttocks were smeared with dried blood from the scratches that crisscrossed his cheeks. Crimson ran down the insides of both thighs almost to his knees and Kurama flinched for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes.

_It's bad._

Hiei managed to clean himself up and dress rather quickly, a formerly white towel and a pile of bloody gauze at his feet the only evidence of his pain. Karasu had packed the last of his toys away and was lovingly caressing the handle of his riding crop as Hiei pulled more bandages from his jacket and started to re-dress the wound. There were at least five long lacerations from wrist to elbow, one of them dangerously deep and still bleeding.

_It's really bad._

"You know Hiei," Karasu placed the riding crop in his bag with a gentleness Kurama didn't know he was capable of, "you're going to need to stay pretty if I'm going to continue to fuck you."

"And you need to shut the hell up if I'm gonna keep fucking _you._" Hiei threw back, tucking the end of the bandage in place and checking over the dressing. Suddenly, he took in a sharp breath, remembering the green eyes that he found watching them.

Turning, Hiei pulled up the shade and threw open the door, studying the large instrument-filled classroom outside.

_No one._

"Did we have an audience?" Karasu snuck up behind Hiei, also casting a glance around the room.

Hiei sniffed, "I thought we did." He patted his pockets, looking for his cigarettes and Karasu reached back, shutting the light off in the tiny room and locking it behind them as the final bell rang, heralding the end of another day. Karasu headed for the main door, his elegance making him appear to drift rather than walk, and as he crossed the room he began to hum. It was a strange piece of music, and his velvet voice gave the tune a sinister edge as well. Hiei held back with suspicion, trying to place the tune while pulling his shirtsleeve down over the bandages.

As Karasu reached the door to the hallway he smiled, the humming resolving into a taunting song.

"_I hurt myself today._" He looked back at Hiei, violet gaze cruel and pointed.

"Shut up," Hiei said, recognizing the tune; it was an old morbid Nine Inch Nails song.

"_To see if I still feel._" The lines were sung with a hint of a whine, mocking him with every word.

"I said shut up Karasu." He unconsciously rubbed his left forearm. _Why does he have to be such a prick?_

Karasu was unrelenting; he always got so much enjoyment from the suffering of others and Hiei's vulnerability was just too good to waste.

"_I focus on the pain._" Karasu's voice was beginning to crease; he almost couldn't hold back the laughter. For a second, Hiei looked almost stricken and it was highly entertaining.

"_The only thing that's real._"

"FUCK YOU!" Hiei screamed at him. It was bad enough that his life was almost unbearable, but to have someone make fun of his misery…it hurt almost as much as when his pain was dismissed.

Breaking down into mocking laughter Karasu left, slamming the door.

Hiei turned, punching the wall behind him, and a small crack appeared in the dingy green plaster, a few tiny pieces flaking off and falling to the floor.

"ASSHOLE!" he cried out, though it was directed more to himself than to Karasu. Leaning his forehead against the wall, he simply stood there, shoulders hunched in defeat, bereft. Taking few deep breaths, he closed his eyes and whimpered a small, "_Why?_"

_Why does it hurt so much? Why doesn't it stop?_

He heaved a long sigh, ending in a grimace as the pain began to settle in, keeping the heaviness at bay if only for a little while. For what it was worth, even these brief reprieves were becoming shorter and shorter; despite all the abuse he had taken today, Hiei wondered if he'd be able to make it to Saturday without completely losing his mind. He was sure he could find someone to ease the pain at Yusuke's party, but that was still a few days away.

_Two months,_he reminded himself, _just two more months._

"Two months," he said aloud trying to reinforce what little was left of his will. Sighing again, he pushed away from the wall and made his way across the room.

_Will there be anything left of me by then?_ he wondered, stepping out into the hall. He hoped that he could find Yusuke - or even Kuwabara at this point - and get a ride home; in the shape he was in, he did _not_want to ride the bus.

He absentmindedly checked the bandages again, then pulled the collar of his jacket up so no one could see the bruising and chafing around his neck. His back stung, his ass felt like it had been skewered, and the rest of him just throbbed. This was his life now, what was left of it, and even though he had come to accept this as normal, every once in awhile he felt shocked and disgusted at how low he had sunk, where desperation had placed him, how little of himself remained.

_If I destroy myself, will this agony finally stop?_

* * *

><p>Kurama unfolded his long limbs, getting out from behind the piano at the front of the room a few seconds after Hiei left. Earlier, it had taken everything he had not to dash out from his hiding spot and make Karasu swallow his nose the hard way, but he didn't think that that was a smart idea, especially since he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.<p>

His heart almost fell out when he heard the small helpless _why_. That single word, uttered with such anguish, echoed through his soul and in a way, made him feel better. For just a few moments Kurama felt less isolated, less alone in his suffering.

But the memories came back far too quickly and a rush of guilt washed over him as he left the classroom.

_Nothing…nothing will make up for what I've done._ He placed a hand over his face, holding back tears. _I'm sorry…_

Kurama could hear the rumbling of footsteps on the floors above him as students eagerly left the building. Finally finding a stairwell, he leaned against the railing for a moment trying to resolve the images from before with the old familiar feelings of sorrow and regret. One thing stood out, something that piqued his curiosity, a simple phrase Hiei mumbled to himself before he left the room.

_Two months._

Putting himself back in check, Kurama began to climb the stairs, more than ready to go home.

_Two months, that's a lot better than five years. _


	3. March 5th, 2005

~Author's Note~

-Warnings: Mild Lemon, Yaoi, Self-Mutilation, and lots of angst.  
>-This is a KuramaHiei story but Hiei does get around. Pairings this chapter: Yusuke/Hiei

* * *

><p><em>"There was a girl on Unit B, an incredibly sad girl, who cut herself with anything she could get her hands on. Bits of glass she found on the street, she saved these for her private moments under the sheets. An accidental, overlooked sharp edge on a windowsill. In group, the rest of the patients tried to understand, tried to say to her: But why? She shrugged and looked at her hands. I told my father about her. I remember his face, worried, mortified; he said: My God. Self-mutilation. And he shook his head. I just don't understand that, he said.<em>

_I understood."_

**Wasted**  
>Marya Hornbacher<p>

**Chapter 3: March 5th, 2005**

_Stars._

_Nothing but stars._

_The night sky littered with shining white sparks._

_The moon bright and watchful, like a new mother._

_Serene._

_Encompassing._

_The tranquility a compliment to the swirling city so far below._

_In these moments, it seemed like existence was a gift only for them._

_"Kurama, what would you do if I died?"_

_"I don't know, probably steal those vinyl platforms you never let me borrow."_

_"I'm serious"_

_"So am I."_

_"…."_

_"You're worried that we'll be separated?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Don't. Where you go, I go, in this life and all the rest."_

_Strong but soft fingers lacing through his own, the feeling of comfort only that touch can bring._

_A gentle squeeze._

_"Promise?" Vulnerability, fear,_

_Foreboding?_

_"I promise, I will never leave your side."_

_A searing kiss,_

_The feel of the roof against his back,_

_The night sky._

_Stars._

_"Never…I promise"_

* * *

><p>The tears were already there when Kurama woke, burning tears of longing and lamentation that streamed down his cheeks onto the bed, where he lay curled around a tattered black hat, in the same position he had been in most of the day.<p>

The dreams had started again, flooding him with memories until he felt like he was drowning. Kurama didn't know if it was because of the move, or because of his fascination with Hiei, or because that one crushing day was approaching with unnatural speed, but he did know that sleep was no longer a safe pastime.

The doorbell rang. Kurama sniffed and sat up, stretching his cramped muscles and glancing at the window.

_It's dark out. Maybe I should eat something; Mother is going to give me a hard time if I stay in my room all day and night brooding again._

Winding through the maze of boxes still not unpacked from the move, Kurama made his way downstairs to the kitchen. The doorbell rang again and he looked around, calling out "Mother!" before grabbing an apple and walking into the foyer. Taking a small bite out of the fruit, he studied the front door dubiously.

_I really have no desire to speak to anyone right now_, he sighed, _but she'll give me an earful if I don't answer it._

Trying not to look _so_ despondent, he reached out and opened the door.

"Kurama!" Yukina stood on the front steps, greeting the redhead with an enthusiastic smile. A wispy pink dress short enough to be sexy but long enough to be modest peeked out from beneath her fluffy white coat and her hair was curled, surrounding her head in a soft mint-green cloud; she was every inch a living cotton candy doll. Behind her, a tall boy rocked back and forth on his heels, proudly displaying the school's letter and colours on his lacrosse jacket while studying Kurama with a crooked grin.

Thrown for a moment, Kurama just blinked at them, confused.

_What are they doing here?_

"Are you coming with us to Yusuke's party?" Yukina's smile faded, the last word of her sentence swallowed by distraction as she took in the redhead's state. His clothing and hair were disheveled, his face was puffy and splotchy, and his striking green eyes were flat and lifeless.

In a word, he looked horrible; in two words, he looked horribly sad.

"I'm sorry," Kurama sighed. "I guess I forgot."

_Despair does take up so much of my social calendar; let me see if I can pencil you in for Tuesday…_

A cold gust of wind whipped around the three of them, rustling Kurama's hair as it blew into the house. Lately the weather had been mild for a New York winter but yesterday Mother Nature had corrected herself, the temperature dropping to where it should be as a few inches of snow fell to the ground. The ensuing snow day was widely welcomed, especially by Kurama, who had spent most of yesterday brooding as diligently as he had today. At first he had actually intended to unpack but too many things had struck him, triggering his grief. Pictures, letters, small trinkets that were once insignificant but now treasured all combined to encompass him in fresh waves of anguish, reminding him that the pain would always be there and that he would always suffer alone.

Isolation was his religion, grief was his god.

He had tried to push through it, but the last of his will dissolved when he found the hat. It was his undoing, and as his fingers lovingly brushed the floppy brim, tracing patterns over the fabric, he became completely unhinged, curling up around it on the floor and crying for hours before he managed to crawl into bed and drift into a fitful slumber, treading water in the deep sea of memory.

_I'm in the perfect mood to go to a party._

Remembering his manners, Kurama swept his hand aside, ushering the couple into the house before they froze and the three of them stood awkwardly in the foyer. Despite a fluffy - yet impractical - coat and a very flimsy dress, Yukina seemed unaffected by the cold; instead, she concentrated on Kurama "Are you OK?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You look terrible."

Kurama ran a hand through his hair. "I'm fine," he lied, "I just…I haven't gotten enough sleep. I have so much unpacking to do." He gestured towards the piles of boxes still lining the walls.

"I hear that!" Yukina replied, easily accepting his farce. "I'm actually taking more of my things back to Kazuma's place tonight – OH!" a dainty hand flew to her mouth, "I'm so _rude_! Kurama, this is –"

"Kuwabara." Leaning forward, the carrot-top shook Kurama's hand with a smile. The redhead instantly liked Kuwabara - he was genuine, with an energy that was both fierce and gentle at the same time; he seemed like the type of guy you'd always want on your side. Kurama was surprised; he had figured that most of his classmates would be suburban mannequins or inbred hicks but so far everyone he'd encountered seemed to be nice - if a little overzealous - and it was refreshing to not have to weave his way through a pretentious conversation.

_I could actually make some friends here, if I tried._

"You know Kurama," Kuwabara put a hand on Yukina's shoulder in an unconscious gesture of affection, "if you need time to get ready, you got it. Hiei's still in the shower and we have to put some of Yukina's things in the trunk, so we'll be about a half an hour."

"I don't know…" Kurama hedged. He was way behind schedule with his brooding, and he could just about handle _this_ conversation.

"I think you should go, Shuuichi." Startled, the trio turned to find Shiori standing in the doorway, a basket of folded towels fresh from the laundry room balanced on her hip. She smiled at the couple by the door, giving them a brief nod before looking at Kurama, the expression on her face informing him that he could argue, but the decision was already made. Her maternal eye was gentle but missed nothing, and their bond was one that often didn't need words. She cared for Kurama without judgment, only with love, and he tried not to disappoint her - although sometimes he felt she pushed too hard.

_"Mother!"_ He packed so much into that one word, but she ignored it. Instead, she reached into her pocket and tossed her cell phone to him.

"I'll be home all night if you need a ride back, I worked a double shift yesterday and even though I've just started there, I don't think they'd be insane enough to call me in again tonight," she stifled a yawn. "I'd be useless." Putting the basket down, she walked into the foyer, exchanging a brief introduction with the couple before gently ruffling Kurama's hair.

"Go to the party." Her voice was softer, letting him know that it would make her happy for him to at least try.

"Jeez Kurama," Kuwabara's voice echoed through the house, "your _mom's_ telling you to go-"

"Fine. OK." He relented, trying to look somewhat enthusiastic. Yukina and her boyfriend were nice people, he didn't want to seem rude or ungrateful.

_Great, instead of wallowing at home, I can wallow at Yusuke's place. Nothing like a change of scenery._

"Yea!" Yukina hopped up and down, clapping her hands. "We'll meet you across the street in a half an hour. And don't worry," she patted his arm "I'll keep you away from all the rabid fangirls."

"Trust me," Kuwabara jerked his thumb at Yukina, "nobody messes with her, she may be small but she's dangerous."

"OK…" Kurama raised an eyebrow. _Maybe the girls are so rabid because the boys are fucking each other…_

"Half-hour," Yukina repeated with a wink as they left.

Kurama turned to his mother after the door closed. "Thanks for steamrolling me," he said, frowning at her. "I barely know them, they could be axe murderers."

She waved a dismissive hand at him, picking up her laundry basket. "I'm willing to take my chances. Besides, I can't have you sitting in your room brooding all day and night again. Have you eaten anything?"

_Is she in my brain?_ He held up his half-eaten apple.

She wasn't fooled. "Anything besides that?"

He shook his head and she hugged him with her free hand. "Go upstairs and get ready. I'll make you something."

Before he got more than a few steps away, she called out to him with a soft, "Shuuichi" and he stopped, turning back to her.

Her gracious face was lined with pleading concern. "Try to have fun." Reaching out, she tucked a silver-tipped lock of hair behind his ear. "Let it go for a little while."

_Like it's really that easy. I'll never let him go._

He gave her a half-hearted smile. "I'll try." She was the only person alive he would try for. "But don't expect me to be the life of the party."

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later, Kurama was across the street, leaning against a tree and watching with mild interest as Kuwabara tried to shove six large boxes into the trunk of his car even though there was barely room for five.<p>

The carrot-top huffed and cursed, sweating from his efforts despite the freezing temperatures. Finally, after a few rough shoves told him that the trunk was indeed too full, he kicked the rear bumper in frustration, and turned toward the house, yelling "_YUKINA!_" while dropping the last box on the street.

After a moment, the diminutive girl walked outside, and Kuwabara informed her that it was decision-making time. One, if not two, of the boxes had to stay behind, and the obvious look of indecision on her face made Kurama roll his eyes, wrap his coat tightly around himself, and wonder if he would freeze before they got to the party.

Hearing the snuffle of repressed laughter, the redhead glanced up. At some point during the box debacle Hiei had finished getting ready and was now standing on the balcony above Kurama, cigarette dangling between his fingers, an amused expression on his face as he watched Yukina stare at one box…then sigh…then stare at the trunk…then sigh, making sure she thought things through.

After all, it was a _very_ difficult choice.

"Fuck _me_," Hiei shouted, "we're never going to get there!"

"I don't see you helping, shrimp!" Kuwabara yelled back, taking the boxes that he had just put in the trunk back out and arranging them in a semi-circle around his girlfriend. Yukina needed to see them all again before she could make up her mind.

Hiei tapped his cigarette over the edge of the balcony. "What's there to help with?" he retorted "Yukina has to pick which box stays behind and then you have to put the others in the trunk. Seems like your task is perfectly matched to your IQ."

Kuwabara was not amused. "You know, Hiei, it's a long walk to Yusuke's place, you better get started."

"And not get to ride with you?" Hiei placed a hand over his heart in mock agony "How will I keep up on who's sucking whose dick on the lacrosse team?"

Kurama choked, holding back laughter, and looked down to hide a bemused expression as Kuwabara promptly lost it.

"You stupid little _FREAK!_ You _DO NOT_ insult-"

"Idiot."

"My _TEAM_. At least we _CARE_ about something-"

"Loser."

"Not like you, all you do is-"

"Mascot Humper."

"_SHUT UP!_" Kuwabara's face turned a deep shade of red, practically bordering on purple, and Kurama wondered if Hiei antagonized him just to see that amazing colour.

"Would you two stop it!" Yukina snapped, eyes on the boxes in front of her, "I'm thinking, I don't need to hear you arguing!"

They both looked to Yukina and then back at each other.

"Midget."

"Fool."

"_Enough!_" With a severe look, the green-haired girl pointed a tiny finger at each of them and silence ensued. Kurama looked at Yukina with newfound respect.

_I guess she_ is _a force to be reckoned with._

Touching the two boxes on the right with a pink-booted foot, the Queen declared, "These can stay," before going inside again - to do what was anyone's guess. Kuwabara quickly put the two boxes back in the house, and then went to work stuffing the remaining four back into the trunk of his car again, muttering something about how the greatest hell is repetition.

Kurama caught a glimmer of movement and tilted his head, looking sideways up at Hiei. The earlier bickering seemed easily forgotten, as if it were routine, and the small boy was now standing on the railing of the balcony, exhibiting a natural balance despite the precarious surface and the cold wind whipping around him. His hands were folded behind his back, that unusual brown gaze turned inward as if he were burrowing deep within himself, unaware – yet again – that he was being watched. Kurama's eyes devoured the object of his fascination with a mix of curiosity and awe: perched on the balcony's edge, dressed only in black except for a fluttering red scarf, Hiei was a saturnine statue, beautiful in secret pain.

A black fire slowly burning itself out.

Sweeping his eyes over the slight frame, Kurama saw the signs of one who is adept at concealing pain, having been a professional in the field for years. Hiei was wearing at least three shirts, one being a turtleneck, and all bruises and lacerations were well-hidden, the bulk of the clothing making him look fuller than he actually was and the cold air giving him a mildly healthy flush. The material deception was foolproof, and Kurama moved on, studying the air of indifference Hiei also wore, searching for clues, trying to find -

_Someone else like me? Someone who might understand me? This is crazy…isn't it?_

But there it was – a crack in Hiei's demeanor, a second where longing shot across his features, flickering briefly to despair before he corrected himself. It was in that slip that Kurama could see the small boy's battered soul slamming against the bars of its cage, wanting to be free, and it was in that slip that Kurama reaffirmed just how much was hidden.

_Nice mask, not as sturdy as mine, but good enough for the company you keep._

Without warning Hiei came back to the present and, lowering his gaze, locked eyes with Kurama. Time slowed as the two just stared at each other in silence, both acknowledging each other for the first time - the redhead wondering if he had been too bold, and the other wondering where he had seen those eyes before.

With a slight shrug Hiei broke the connection, stepping off the railing without a second thought and dropping to the ground with practiced ease, the snowdrift below breaking his fall. Kurama gaped at him, not expecting Hiei to just plunge off the edge of the balcony and land knee-deep in the snow beside him.

Brushing off his coat and acting as if he hadn't just fallen fifteen feet, Hiei took out his cigarettes, tilting the pack to Kurama in silent offering, then lighting one after the redhead declined. "So you're the famous Shuuichi Minamino," he said dully, taking a drag and filling the air around them with blue-grey smoke.

Kurama stared at Hiei for a second before finding his voice. "I guess I am," he replied, holding out a gloved hand. "Call me Kurama."

"Hiei," the small boy said around the cigarette, briefly shaking the offered hand before asking, "Why Kurama?" with a considering look. The redhead was quiet, but very attractive, possibly a candidate for this evening's distraction.

_As long as he doesn't have too much baggage._

"It's just a nickname." Kurama replied, hiding his exasperation. He hated having to explain why he went as Kurama, even if the explanations were simple lies. The reasoning behind his identity was too complicated and painful to reveal to just anyone. To him, Shuuichi no longer existed; he was Kurama through and through, a stoic tribute to one he left behind.

_I don't think you ever called me Shuuichi._

"_YUKINA!_" Kurama jumped, wondering if Kuwabara ever called his girlfriend's name without breaking the eardrums of everyone in a five-mile radius. "We've got to go _now_! It's almost nine o'clock, Urameshi's going to kill us!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses." Yukina strolled out onto the front steps, locking the door behind her, and Kurama noticed that her hair was bigger than it was before. Digging through her purse, she pulled out a shiny pink cell phone and walked over to the two boys by the tree. As she approached, her eyes went from Kurama to Hiei to the balcony, and a mischievous smile spread across her face as she looked back to her brother, asking, "Nosedive?"

Hiei grinned. "Nope, Swan dive. Practically gave Kurama a heart attack." He glanced smugly at Kurama, who tried to appear insulted but was unsuccessful.

Yukina giggled, flipping open her cell phone and dialing as Kuwabara shouted from the street, "We have to _go_! What are you _doing_?"

"Reconnaissance." She winked at Kurama. "Botan needs time."

"Time for _what_?" Kuwabara eclipsed his earlier colouring, his face turning an impressive shade of purple as Yukina deflected the question, answering with a mysterious "You'll see…"

The redhead looked at Hiei in confusion and the smaller boy just shrugged, taking another drag off his cigarette.

"Botan!" Yukina smiled as her friend picked up. "Are you already there?...Good….Us? We're still on Gomer Street…I know, I know, come on, I'm running on Yukina time….Listen, I need a favour, I have Kurama with us-"

Yukina winced and held the phone a few inches away from her ear as Botan's squealing surged from the tiny speaker, easily heard by Hiei and Kurama who were standing at least a foot away. Again, the redhead glanced at Hiei – although he didn't know why - and was rewarded by an arched eyebrow and a second shrug.

Once the squealing had somewhat subsided, Yukina returned the phone to her ear and got down to business. "Calm down Botan, you have a man!...Listen, this is important! Are Koto and Juri there?...Great…Tell them you just heard that Shuuichi Minamino is off the market…that's right…he's engaged to some girl in Manhattan…practically married."

Only Hiei caught the stricken look that ghosted across Kurama's face.

"It doesn't matter if it's true!" Yukina sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just pass it around…emphasize that they have no chance, it's a waste of time. Please? For me?...Thanks Botan…Yes, I know, we have to talk to Keiko and get a play-by-play…I'll see you in, like, fifteen minutes…get to work…bye!"

Shutting her phone with a _click_, Yukina grinned triumphantly and winked at Kurama again. "See," she said, "I told you not to worry. Now you're fangirl free for the evening, probably the rest of the year too now that Koto and Juri have the _info_." The last word came out with the hint of a giggle; now that the school's biggest gossips had the false scoop, everyone would have the news by Monday at the latest.

Kurama squeezed out a small smile, managing to look thankful even though he was rattled.

_That hurt…more than I expected._

Already in the car with the engine running, Kuwabara shouted "Are you _done_? Can we _go_!?" with a glare that could be called impatient, but that would be an understatement. Yukina strutted proudly toward the car, beaming with her accomplishment, Kurama shuffled through the snow behind her, and Hiei followed - a distant third - lagging behind as he studied the redhead, taking note of his balled fists, his slightly slumped shoulders -

_So much for not having any baggage._

Tossing his cigarette out onto the street, Hiei frowned. There was an odd familiarity about Kurama, a connection that he couldn't place, something that left him feeling both curious and exposed.

_Strange, I wonder what his story is._

* * *

><p>Yusuke's apartment was only a ten minute drive from the complex. Set on the edge of the Hudson, although not in the best of neighborhoods, the fifteen floor building had a glorious view of the river and its many bridges, and on a clear day the faint outline of Manhattan could be caught looming to the south.<p>

It took longer than usual to park since the streets were piled with snow from yesterday's storm and the teens finally crammed into the elevator with a sigh of relief: Kuwabara and Yukina brimming with excitement, Kurama steeling himself for the upcoming social activity, and Hiei radiating annoyance and boredom while fiddling with the collar of his turtleneck.

"So, why _are_ you living in the wonder that is Westchester County?" Kuwabara asked Kurama as they crawled to the fourteenth floor in an elevator that seemed to spite them with its painful slowness.

"My mother got a new job," Kurama replied, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He needed to stay relaxed; if what happened earlier was any indication, tonight's social activity would be harder on him than he thought. He was a far cry from the confident and cocky Kurama that had once ruled the New York City club scene. His old self would _own_ Yusuke's party; in fact, the party wouldn't even start until his arrival, and then it would become legendary.

But none of that mattered anymore. He had lost what he needed most, and now all that was left were promises and time. He was a brittle shadow of his old form, empty, barely able to handle the little interaction that was required of him tonight.

_Look at what I have become._

Yukina glanced up at Kurama, her fluffy green hair brushing the shoulder of his coat. "So, what does your Mom do?" she asked, "I heard her say something before about a double shift."

Despite his internal struggles, Kurama managed a small smile of pride. "She's a charge nurse at Westchester Medical Center. She works in children's rehabilitation and they just opened a new wing specifically for that." Shiori loved her work - it was rewarding beyond measure - and Kurama fondly remembered her ecstatic shouts and gleeful dancing the day she'd been hired. Despite the fact that he'd been uprooted, he was truly happy for her; she'd sacrificed so much for him over the past few years and he didn't want to hold her back any longer.

_It's time she got what she wanted. At least one of us can be happy._

"Westchester Medical Center is supposed to be a great hospital," Kuwabara stated.

"One of the best," Kurama agreed. "She has a lot of opportunity there, and even though the work is demanding she's enjoying the new job a lot."

Yukina nudged Kurama with a teasing grin. "So, city-boy, do you like living in the suburbs?"

_Why don't you ask me if I like_ living, _at least I have an answer to that question._

"It's OK," Kurama replied reluctantly. Hiei snorted with contempt, eyes on the frayed carpeting at their feet, that small contribution making his opinions obvious.

"I've really only been here about a week," he added as an afterthought. "Ask me next month."

Silence resumed as the elevator tortoised its way past the ninth floor, broken only by the sounds of rustling clothing as they fidgeted, all for different reasons. Curiosity wound it's way through Kurama, and after a few more floors, he turned to Yukina, asking, "So, what does your Mom think about you and Kuwabara living together?" Shiori was very liberal, but Kurama's relationship with his mother was unique; he was surprised that a suburbanite mom would let her seventeen year-old daughter move in with her boyfriend, even if they had been going out for quite some time.

"She doesn't mind, she's always liked Kazuma," the small girl replied. Again Hiei snorted, and Yukina leaned forward past Kurama to give her brother a _look_, and the elevator seemed to become a bit…chilly.

Hiei studied the floor with more interest. Avid interest.

"Besides," Yukina straightened, satisfied that she had made her point, "she's happy that I have someone wonderful like Kazuma to look after me." Kuwabara puffed and preened at the compliment, practically filling his corner of the elevator with heroic pride as Yukina continued. "She's got this great career now – she helps foreign companies merge – so she spends a lot of time overseas."

"_She spends a lot of time on her back on her boss' desk too,_" Hiei mumbled, Kurama being the only one within earshot. Turning slightly to the side, the redhead saw the derision on Hiei's face and instantly concluded that Hiei's relationship with his mother was different than his sister's, and definitely not like the bond Shiori shared with her Shuuichi.

Distracted, Kurama only caught the end of Yukina's sentence "-and she won't be back at least until May, maybe June."

"Wow," was all Kurama could say. As the elevator doors opened and the sounds of what could only be Yusuke's party drifted down the hall towards them, Kurama glanced at Hiei. "So, you live alone in that place?"

The boy gave Kurama a look that could be easily read as: _what do you care?_ except that it had something else mixed in with it, something like…fear?

"Yeah." Hiei brushed past him out of the elevator, muttering, "It's great." Annoyance dripped from the words, and Kurama stared at Hiei's back as the smaller boy strode down the hall, abruptly ending any further conversation.

_What would I be like if I lived alone with my despair?_

Kurama's thoughts flitted over the countless times Shiori nagged him to eat, to sleep, when she distracted him from his brooding, when she tried to make him feel better…

All the times she just _cared_.

The collar of Hiei's shirt bunched a little and from halfway down the hall Kurama could easily see the souvenirs from Karasu's tryst lining the small boy's throat. Some of the chafing had begun to scab over, creating different layers and textures of bruising across Hiei's neck.

However, it was nothing compared to what the boy was doing to himself.

_If I lived alone, I would be him._

Realizing that the collar had slipped, Hiei quickly pulled his turtleneck back up and patted his hand over it, making sure that his secrets remained covered; as he did that, the barest hint of white gauze slipped out from under his left shirt sleeve and he tucked that back in as well.

Kurama sighed and shook his head, starting down the hall after the other three.

_No. If I lived alone, I'd be dead._

As Kurama caught up, Kuwabara started banging on the door of Yusuke's apartment, yelling, "_Police! Open up!_" and Yukina burst into a fit of giggles.

There was a long pause before the door opened, causing pounding music to spill into the hallway, and a slightly drunk and very confused Yusuke stood before them.

Kurama blinked, recognizing the teen. _So _that's_ the guy whose girlfriend doesn't put out._

Realizing that it was not the cops banging on his door, but his idiotic best friend, Yusuke's bewildered expression instantly transformed into a shit-eating grin and he shouted, "Yeah! Now the party can really start! It's about time you guys showed up!"

Leaning forward, Yusuke rapped his fist on Kuwabara's head. "Police – good one!" and then a series of punches started, resulting in the two boys rolling around on the floor, half in and half out of the apartment.

"Do they always do this?" Kurama asked, helping Yukina step over the ruckus while trying not to get swept up in it himself. Hiei waited a moment before aptly placing a kick to the middle of Kuwabara's back, then hopped over the two and went inside.

"Yeah," she answered, pulling Kurama through a crowd of people towards the kitchen, where the music wasn't so loud. "It's the best way they communicate. Actually, it's the only way they communicate. _Keiko!_" Yukina waved a petite girl in a sparkly blue dress over to them and introductions were made then Botan appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. After a moment of gushing over Kurama, the bubbly girl whispered something in Yukina's ear and the three females shrieked and giggled. Yukina looked at Keiko, eyes wide with wonder and said "You have to tell me _everything_!"

Slipping past Kurama, Hiei began shuffling through the kitchen cabinets as his sister was tugged away by her two friends. "Sorry Kurama, duty calls!" she blurted out while being dragged into one of the bedrooms. "I promise I'll be right back!" The door slammed shut as she finished the sentence and instantly squealing and other high-pitched sounds could be heard coming from the room, indicating that there were serious matters being discussed.

Or they were all having sex.

"Girls are so weird," Hiei commented with a scowl, pulling out several bags of coffee from the cabinet above his head. Feeling a bit lost without the steady presence of his green-haired social specialist, Kurama remained in the kitchen. Taking a soda out of the fridge, he leaned against the counter and watched as Hiei mastered the coffeemaker with a familiarity that indicated he had spent a lot of time at Yusuke's.

"You don't drink?" Kurama eventually asked him, eyeing the various bottles lining the kitchen table. The place was an alcoholic smorgasbord – besides the plethora of hard alcohol, there was a keg on the floor in the corner, and the refrigerator was piled with beer. Kurama was surprised that he'd managed to find a soda.

"I don't like to." Taking a chipped mug from the drainboard, Hiei poured himself a cup of coffee and spooned in a liberal amount of sugar. "Besides," he turned toward the redhead, gesturing at the crowd in the living room with his mug "I don't want to be one of those drunken idiots." His gaze landed on the soda in Kurama's hand and he arched an eyebrow.

Kurama shrugged, "I've had enough nights I can't remember. This is good enough for me."

"Hn." A peculiar expression crossed Hiei's face, but it was gone as quickly as it had surfaced and he turned, walking into the living room without another word. His interaction with the redhead had left him feeling strange again, and it was time for him to withdraw and wait out the evening.

Winding through the crowd and waving a few clouds of pot smoke out of his face, Hiei made his way to the corner of the room by the window, where three well-worn cushions were neatly stacked against the wall. They were odd souvenirs from an old couch that Atsuko threw out last year and there was never a solid reason given why they were saved, but the three roughly upholstered pillows had been deemed Hiei's spot, and whenever he was at Yusuke's the small boy balanced on top of them, sometimes watching the rest of the room from his throne, other times just staring out the window next to him.

Unfortunately, someone had not been informed about that piece of real estate and Hiei stopped next to the pile, staring menacingly at Touya, who was leaning forward on the cushions, gesturing emphatically to an amused Jin and bored Shishi while saying, "But if you hit him like that, you end up breaking your fingers! You need to tilt your hand so that it doesn't - HEY!"

The blue-haired boy never got to finish his lesson as he was dumped unceremoniously onto the living room floor. With a wry smile, Hiei placed the top cushion back on the pile, dusted it off and sat down, ignoring Touya's cursing and Jin's laughter.

"You know Hiei, you could have just asked me to move," Touya spat, rubbing his ass where it had skidded on the floor a bit. "What, are taking asshole lessons from the Toguro brothers?"

"Why would I ask you to move? Then I would have to talk to you more than I am now, and I'm already tired of your face." Hiei could tolerate most of Yusuke's friends, but Touya always rubbed him the wrong way. Nothing had ever happened to pit the two against each other, but from the get-go, there was instant dislike. Their energies didn't mesh, they were like oil and water, fire and ice.

"You're such a fucking loser," Touya replied. "It's a wonder that _anyone_ likes you." With a disgusted look he turned away, moving to Jin's side at the far end of the couch, and Hiei was left to himself.

Thankful for the solitude, Hiei gazed out the window, ignoring the party swirling around him. He was motionless, still wrapped in his black coat, a sullen statue on a shabby pedestal, lost in the pattern of lights that lined the river.

It was his plan to remain that way for several hours.

Kurama was still lurking in the kitchen when a ruffled and slightly bruised Yusuke snuck up behind him. "So _you're_ Kurama!" he shouted, slapping the redhead on the back. With amazing dexterity, Kurama managed to keep from dropping his soda as he jumped about a foot, blushing a little as Yusuke laughed at him, even though the laughter was good-natured.

"It's great to finally meet you," Yusuke added with a lopsided grin. "Glad you could come."

Still shaken from Yusuke's raucous greeting, Kurama managed to stammer out something polite, ending with a weak "Happy birthday."

"Thanks man." Even though the music was loud, Yusuke's voice was much louder, and Kurama could see that the birthday boy's volume was in direct correlation to the amount of alcohol consumed. Swaying a bit, Yusuke waved his hand aimlessly around the kitchen before slinging it across Kurama's shoulders. "Yeah, well, my Mom's got this boyfriend that lives in the Village and she's been staying there a lot, so I figured – why not throw myself a party? 'Cause _IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!_"

Kurama winced as the last part was screamed way too close to his ear. The crowd in the living room responded to Yusuke's drunken declaration with a series of hoots and hollers, some popcorn and a lone shoe flying into the kitchen at the two boys.

"Hey, have you met everyone yet?" Yusuke asked, hauling the redhead into the other room without waiting for an answer.

"Well, I-" Kurama was not up for social scrutiny, and at this point was trying to find some way to disappear but his powers of invisibility were out of practice.

"OK EVERYONE!" On the way into the living room, Yusuke had picked up the shoe that had been chucked at him and was now twirling it around on the finger of his free hand, trying to get some attention. However, due to his current inebriated state it flew off his finger after a few spins, sailing across the room and landing in Juri's lap. She shrieked and tossed it back into the air where it smacked against Chu's head with a _thunk_ before landing in the bowl of pretzels on the coffee table.

There was a chorus of jeers and curses and a second round of airborne popcorn but Yusuke had finally gotten more than two people to look at him. "Hey guys, this is Kurama." Kurama shifted as too many eyes focused on him and quickly plastered a fake smile on his face to hide the fact that he wanted to sink into the floor.

"Kurama," Yusuke began with an over exaggerated gesture, "this is Chu, Shishi, Suzuka-

"The _Beautiful_ Suzuka," came the protest from a very well-coiffed blonde boy.

"Fuck you man, I'm making introductions, don't make me lose my place!" Yusuke bellowed, and Kurama winced again, hoping his eardrums were still intact. "Um…Shishi…"

"You already said me, not that I mind." A boy with royal blue hair, dressed far too formally for an eighteenth birthday party, mocked Yusuke with his gaze, then winked at Kurama.

Kuwabara strode into the living room rolling his eyes. "Jeez Urameshi, you're too drunk to do this." He smacked Yusuke upside the head, handed him a beer, then stood beside them, pointing a finger at everyone as he said their name.

"Kurama, this is Chu, Shishi," a sigh, "_The Beautiful Suzuka_, Touya, Jin, Koto, Juri, Mitarai, and Hagiri. Koenma's in the corner on the cell phone and Rinku's over there playing video games."

Kurama frowned, realizing that Rinku was the freshman who gave him those faultless directions to the English wing a few days ago. They would need to talk…later.

There were many others present, but Kurama figured that he'd been introduced to the inner circle. As with most high schools there was a caste system; if you were below the third rung on the social ladder you didn't matter, you were lucky enough to be attending the party.

Kuwabara turned to Yusuke, who was having trouble opening his beer, even though it was a twist-off. "Where are Sensui and Itsuki? They said they were coming."

Pulling a lighter out of his pocket, Yusuke popped the cap off the bottle with awesome grace, the lighter and cap flying across the room and pelting some of the guests who'd managed to avoid the earlier shoe incident. "Said they'd be by after eleven o'clock. I think my party interfered with their plans to destroy the world. Either that or they don't want to miss _Dawson's Creek_. Where's your sister?"

"She's got a date, she's coming by later too. Are the girls still dishing dirt in the bedroom?"

"No, we're done talking about you." Somehow, Keiko and Yukina had snuck up behind the boys. Botan was already across the room, a well-placed hand making Koenma gasp and drop his cell phone. Yukina wrapped her arms around Kuwabara, who smiled like he'd been given too many sedatives, and Keiko took Yusuke's beer, kissing him on the cheek while saying, "Why don't I make you another drink?"

"Sure!" Yusuke followed her into the kitchen, grabbing her ass and getting a slap across the face for his troubles.

The party resumed its pre-introduction and projectile activities, and Kurama looked around; most of the group he knew were scattered throughout the room, involved in various conversations. A few girls stared at him with interest despite Yukina's efforts, and he sighed, making his way to the corner of the living room and trying to look absorbed in the haphazard stack of CDs next to him. Times like these never failed to show him how isolated he still was and how much he had lost; even with all the people around him he felt one step removed, remote and alone, and he knew that as his life continued, the distance would only become greater.

_It never gets any better…only worse._

* * *

><p>"I need to talk to you." Yusuke stood behind Hiei in the kitchen, watching as the small boy worked his way through a second pot of coffee. The party was still in full swing: the air in the apartment was thick with various kinds of smoke, there were empty beer cans and plastic cups everywhere, and popcorn littered the floor in an amazing pattern. Yusuke had managed to stay only mildly drunk the entire night, which surprised Hiei; considering the state that the birthday boy was in when they arrived, Yusuke should have been praying to the porcelain god by now.<p>

Hiei smirked, adding sugar to his coffee and stirring. _Keiko must be watering down his drinks. I guess the girl is good for something._

Taking a sip from the chipped mug, Hiei replied "That can be arranged," then frowned and stirred in more sugar. Once he was done he took a look around, making sure no one else was in the kitchen, and leaned closer to Yusuke, his eyes glinting.

"Besides," he murmured, the words soaked with lust, "I need to give you your birthday gift."

Yusuke pulled back a little, looking mildly uncomfortable but Hiei paid that no heed. Their agreement was and always had been secret, no one had been told, and no one had ever suspected.

_I wonder what Keiko would do if she found out that Yusuke likes me to scream his name when I come._

Turning away, not looking Hiei in the eye, Yusuke said "Wait in my Mom's room, I just unlocked it. I'll meet you there in ten minutes."

"Hn." Still holding the mug, Hiei turned and walked down the hall.

* * *

><p><em>A flash of red.<em>

_Interest._

_A crimson teardrop._

_Curiosity._

_"Do you always wear that?" A gentle touch to the swinging gem._

_"This?" A reminiscent smile. "Yes. It was my mother's."_

_"It's beautiful."_

_"You're beautiful." A kiss of promise and passion, the feel of flesh against flesh._

_"What happened to her?"_

_"She died when I was five."_

_Silence, then a soft chuckle._

_Surprise._

_"My Dad died when I was five."_

_Understanding._

_"See, we are connected in so many ways."_

* * *

><p>"<em>I miss you.<em>"

Those three words fell from Kurama's lips, soft in their utterance but thick with agony, the sound quickly swept away by the merciless wind and swallowed by the night sky, held within the confines of the crescent moon above.

Kurama sat huddled on the fire escape against the brick facade of Yusuke's building, arms around his knees, shivering in the cold. His face was chapped and tear-stained; the contrast of cold wind and hot tears stung his cheeks, making him wince occasionally as he worshipped at the temple of his grief.

He had tried, really he did. During the last few hours, Kurama had ventured away from the shelter of the CD stack and conversed with a few people: mostly Kuwabara, Yukina, and – surprisingly - Koenma. But the new wash of memories that he'd been dealing with over the past few days along with the startling amount of social activity he'd been subjected to this evening had indeed proved too much for him, and he found that he needed to be alone, and needed to be alone _now_.

Kurama sought refuge in the bathroom first, knowing that too many would see him if he tried to leave through the front door, but he was only in there a moment before Suzuka was banging on the door demanding some mirror time. Spying the edge of a fire escape from the bathroom window, Kurama did a quick survey of the apartment before figuring that it could be accessed from the master bedroom – which was locked.

Thanks to a kitchen knife and a low-quality doorknob, that wasn't a problem.

He had only intended to spend a half-an-hour out there, long enough to cry himself out and return to the party, but the memories wouldn't stop and the tears were as unrelenting as the cold, which was brutal at this elevation.

Placing his forehead on his folded arms Kurama sobbed into the dark cavern the huddle of his body created, his shoulders shaking, the legs of his pants wet from fallen tears.

_I'm sorry._

First there was the grief, then there was the guilt. Promises haunted him so that no matter how much he worshipped, he was forever damned.

A door slammed in the room behind him and Kurama started, lifting his head and quickly wiping his face with the sleeve of his coat. He had left the bedroom window open a few inches so that he could get back in and with the smoke and heat from the large amount of people crammed into that small apartment, he didn't think Yusuke would notice, or care.

Sniffing, Kurama pulled back some of the hair that was whipping around his face and shifted a little to the left, so he could surreptitiously peer into the bedroom. He didn't want to take anyone by surprise or embarrass himself by interrupting something – usually there was only one reason people retreated to the bedroom in the middle of a party.

A brief glance was all he needed to confirm his suspicions.

_Great_, Kurama rolled his eyes, _this is just my night._

Hiei stood by the bed, coat pooled around his ankles, staring at Yusuke - who had just closed the door.

"That was quicker than ten minutes," Hiei said, approaching the taller boy with a lecherous smirk. "I guess you want it bad." Reaching out, he trailed a finger down the center of Yusuke's chest,

Yusuke grabbed the finger before it reached his waist, the serious look in his eyes belying his drunken aura. "Hiei-" he began softly.

"No talking," Hiei snapped, turning the larger boy and pushing him back onto the bed with strength borne of sexual need. Yusuke bounced a few times as he hit the mattress, and Hiei was on him in a flash, straddling his thighs and untucking his white t-shirt. Leaning over, he slowly traced the shell of Yusuke's ear with a burning tongue, then drifted behind it, where he nibbled at the flesh and sucked.

"Hiei-_unnggg-_" Yusuke tried again, but the vast amount of alcohol he had consumed along with the blazing sexual energy that poured off the boy on top of him was…distracting.

And it didn't help that Hiei was _very_ good with his mouth. Too good.

Searing lips brushed Yusuke's jaw, and that small but fiercely hot tongue darted out again to trace patterns from chin to collarbone. Hiei hummed with desire and delight; he always enjoyed tasting Yusuke, the salty flavour of that tanned skin had a kick to it, as if that punk attitude seeped from every pore. Although Karasu made Hiei reach levels of pleasure that he never thought were possible, Yusuke brought a ferocity out of him that no one else could; Hiei was surprised at how easily their lust melded with their friendship, creating a wild, vicious sexuality that made his head spin and his insides burn.

If things were different - if _they_ were different - perhaps there could have been love…

But in this lifetime what they had was perfect.

Nipping and licking along Yusuke's collarbone Hiei made his way to the juncture of neck and shoulder, first grazing the spot with his teeth then caressing it with a hot breath, tempering his ferocity and softening his touch. Reaching under Yusuke's shirt, he teased the muscled abdomen with fleeting touches, then trailed a fingernail along the waist of those sinfully tight jeans, running a line from hip to hip, quickly dipping his finger under the denim for a sample of the soft black curls underneath. Yusuke writhed beneath him, fisting the bedspread as he let out a series of delectable moans, and Hiei smiled as he licked the taller boy's throat, sucking on the adam's apple before making a wet sensual trail up to his other ear – hitting all the right places, knowing just what to do to make Yusuke shiver and squirm.

"_Happy birthday Yusuke,_" Hiei breathed into the dark pink shell before capturing and sucking on the lobe. Yusuke arched a bit, moaning lustfully as his limbs tingled and a delicious white heat pooled in his groin. Through his sexual haze, Yusuke's mind faintly registered that there was something he still had to tell Hiei…but exactly what that was, he couldn't remember.

_Fuck it. It'll come to me later._

His large calloused hands released the bedspread finding their way into the back of Hiei's pants and he squeezed the small boy's ass, pulling him down against a growing erection while grinding into him.

"Unnnn…_yes,_" Hiei groaned into Yusuke's ear, suddenly overwhelmed by the steel shaft pressing into him and the hands kneading his ass. The mattress began to bounce and squeak as they rubbed together through their clothes, circling their hips with frenzied passion, the air between them growing heated, tinged with sweat and the musky scent of desire. Lips still firmly attached to his partner's ear, Hiei reached under the white t-shirt and flicked Yusuke's right nipple back and forth with his thumb, his other hand reaching down between their undulating bodies and unbuttoning Yusuke's fly.

Hiei stayed dressed. Even though it was mildly dark in the bedroom, the bruising from Karasu's ministrations was still quite vivid and if Yusuke saw that collection along with the gauze-wrapped gashes along his arms there would be questions he didn't want to answer.

Still trapped outside, Kurama waited, one hand covering his face in a gesture of exasperation.

_This is just too bizarre. Can I please get a day where I don't catch Hiei having sex?_

Curling into a ball in an attempt to stay warm, Kurama gazed at the river, watching the tiny lights of cars moving along the bridges. He envied their freedom.

_Now I'm stuck out here until they finish._ Rubbing his raw face with a sleeve again, he sighed. _I should've used the front door while I had the chance._

"You know what I'm gonna do to you Yusuke?" Hiei reached inside his partner's jeans, wrapping his hand around the shaft and stroking it a little as he whispered in a deep sultry voice "I'm gonna suck your dick until my lips go numb, then I'm gonna shove your big thick cock into my tight little ass and ride you into next week." Hiei bounced in Yusuke's lap, accentuating each word of _big thick cock_ and _tight little ass_ with a slam against the larger boy's thighs, and Yusuke groaned shamelessly, savagely thrusting his hips up into Hiei's hand, his body throbbing viciously with need, his mind no longer capable of coherent thought.

Hiei tightened his grip on Yusuke's cock, pumping the rock hard shaft with more speed as he reached back with his free hand and grabbed one of Yusuke's wrists, pulling it out of the back of his pants and bringing it up to his lips. Flashing a lascivious grin, Hiei quickly licked each finger, watching as Yusuke's eyes grew wide, becoming burning embers of coal. Then Hiei opened his mouth and, with an agonizing slowness that complimented his mind-blowing hand job, took in the two longest digits. First, he swirled his tongue around the fingers with amazing expertise then hummed over them and sucked, giving the birthday boy a preview of what would happen next. Yusuke's eyelids drooped as he became lost within the pleasure of Hiei's hands and mouth, quick plaintive mewls along with the occasional deep growl emerging from his throat. Hiei smiled around the fingers; he enjoyed giving pleasure as much as receiving it, liked knowing that he was capable of creating such wanton abandon in his partner - it made him feel needed, worthy, something more than just a lump of flesh shaped by despair…

It gave him the reprieve he needed, for as Yusuke let out a rather gritty moan Hiei felt the pressure in his chest release, and the heaviness vanished.

For a few seconds Hiei was almost giddy; it was a sweet shock whenever the weight lifted and he never got tired of the fleeting peace it gave him. When the heaviness eventually returned after his tryst with Karasu, it had seemed almost vengeful, the edges of it piercing Hiei with a sharpness he hadn't felt before and that surprised him, he didn't think that it could get any worse.

_I guess I was wrong._

Hiei was sure that if he hadn't made the decision to end his life that the depression would eventually kill him anyway. He had lost almost fifteen pounds since the beginning of the year and it was _very_ noticeable on his slight frame: bones jutted out of his skin with an ugly insistence, he felt weaker, frailer, and he was cold all of the time, colder than he should be. It couldn't be helped; he had lost interest in food slowly over the last year and now maintained a steady diet of caffeine and cold cereal - sometimes he bought a bag of Doritos if he felt so inclined. The weight loss was a self-perpetuating loop; the material lightness actually eased his spiritual heaviness, and as his appetite faded so did his will to regain it.

And as his need for food withdrew so did his ability to sleep. Over the last few months insomnia had become a very close friend and breaking night was now commonplace. It didn't matter too much to Hiei; the bleak level of depression he constantly dealt with left him feeling like a walking zombie anyway, so the loss of sleep didn't affect him much at all. He was glad he lived alone; with his unusual eating habits and sleeping schedule it was a boon that he didn't have to explain himself to anyone, especially since he spent the last few mornings having a cigarette out on the balcony, watching the sunrise while wrapping his arms in gauze.

_I need this so much right now._

Releasing the cock in his hand and two very wet fingers from his mouth, Hiei leaned in, capturing Yusuke's lips in a thunderously deep kiss. Their tongues sparred, Hiei tasting the twinge of tequila and beer within his partner's mouth and Yusuke sampling Hiei's familiar flavour of coffee and cigarettes. Questing hands roamed everywhere and pliant moans filled the room as their universe narrowed to the battle of their slick wet muscles and the heat of their entwined bodies.

Suddenly Hiei pulled away, chest heaving, and with a smirk, slithered down Yusuke's body. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he pulled the larger boy's jeans down with a quick yank then grabbed the pulsing cock that sprang out, giving the shaft a slow lick.

"Watch me." Hiei's voice thrummed through Yusuke's body and the teen couldn't tear his eyes from the erotic sight before him. Hiei was practically glowing, sensuality pouring from him in waves. "See how much I want you."

Grabbing the base, Hiei ran the tip of Yusuke's cock around his lips, outlining them with the generous amount of essence already leaking from the pulsing head. Darting his tongue out, he cleaned his lips with teasing slowness, ending with a sigh and a guttural moan, and Yusuke twitched, eyes fluttering a bit before refocusing on the brown orbs of his lover.

"You taste so good Yusuke," Hiei murmured before quickly swallowing the large purple member whole, only stopping when his nose sunk into the thick black curls at the base. Yusuke arched with a mangled wail, grabbing Hiei's head and twisting his fingers through the spiky black hair.

_Fucking a…that feels a whole lot better than what Keiko did last night…_

_Last night…_

"Shit! Hiei – stop!" Yusuke's pleasure-soaked haze dissipated, and his eyes opened wide as he finally remembered the original reason for this bedroom meeting.

He was right, it did eventually come to him. Just not at the best time.

Ignoring the cry, Hiei started to fuck Yusuke's cock with his mouth, holding the larger boy down by the hips as he struggled. Only when Yusuke tugged hard enough on the bobbing head to remove hair did Hiei release the shaft, pulling up with a wince. "Ow! Fuck! What's wrong with you?" His brown eyes were almost all pupil, there was a faint blush across his cheeks, and his lips were swollen and wet from his activities. He looked like a dark wanton angel and Yusuke was hard-pressed to just let him continue.

_Damn, why does he have to be so fucking hot?_

Yusuke scooted back on the bed a little, out of Hiei's reach and away from temptation. "Hiei…" he began slowly, buttoning his pants with clumsy hands. "I'm sorry, we can't do this."

"What? Why? Did you suddenly become straight in the last few minutes?" Hiei was still on his knees, glaring at him from the foot of the bed.

"Hiei…god..." Yusuke rubbed his forehead in a futile attempt to release the tension that balled in his brain; he really didn't want to do this.

Hiei didn't say anything, just crossed his arms and waited.

_I better just get it out._

Taking a deep breath, Yusuke blurted "Keiko and I had sex last night." Still rubbing his forehead, he glanced briefly at Hiei before shifting his gaze back to the bed.

Hiei blinked, confused. "Really? And why didn't you tell me this _before_ we started?"

"I tried to, but you wouldn't let me." Yusuke bit his lip. "And then I kinda…forgot."

Hiei raised both eyebrows, the expression on his face informing Yusuke that the loss of a limb was imminent.

"Hey," Yusuke held his hands out in from of him trying to defend himself, "you were distracting me."

Hiei glared at him for a few more seconds then turned away. Moments ticked by, the thick silence between them punctuated by random shouts and general chaos from the party, and Yusuke was beginning to wonder if Hiei would ever speak again when he finally heard, "I thought that she was holding out until the wedding." The small boy's voice was thin, strained.

Yusuke let out a long breath, glad that he hadn't been completely shut out. "Well," he said to Hiei's back, "she realized that it might be a few years before we got married and even _she_ wasn't willing to wait that long. She'd been planning it for awhile, it was a birthday gift."

Schooling his features, Hiei faced Yusuke again. "I guess we decided to get you the same thing," he replied, managing to produce a small smirk despite his internal maelstrom. There was only one outcome to this conversation and it didn't look good. "So, how was it?" He fought to keep his voice nonchalant, hoping that the mask held steady.

Yusuke smiled a bit, eyes returning to the bedspread as he fiddled with a pull in the fabric. "Amazing. Different. Indescribable."

"Hn." Hiei had tried women and those adjectives were never used to depict his encounters.

"Hiei," Yusuke met the smaller boy's gaze, "we both knew that this could stop at anytime."

"And I guess that time would be now." Hiei stood, turning away from Yusuke and picking up his coat.

_Damn, I need to find someone else now and Yusuke was always so eager and reliable. What am I going to do?_

Suddenly Hiei felt strong solid arms wrap around him and he was pulled against Yusuke's chest in a somewhat awkward but nevertheless heartfelt embrace. Hiei froze, not used to this kind of physical contact; his coat, still in his hands, pressed between them and he held back a shiver as one of Yusuke's hands traveled to smooth the hair on the back of his head.

"Hiei, I'm sorry," Yusuke murmured, his lips pressed against the arced white strip in that dark shock of hair.

"So am I," Hiei found himself saying, his voice as subdued as Yusuke's. He was actually glad that he was being held; at this angle, Yusuke couldn't see the efforts to keep the mask in place and he didn't want his friend to know exactly how badly this was affecting him. None of his friends had caught even the barest glimpse of Hiei's true emotions and he wanted to keep it that way. This was his own struggle, one that he was losing, but it was _his_ and nobody else's, and he'd be damned if it became everyone's business.

Yusuke released Hiei, only to place a hand on either side of that small face, tilting Hiei's head until those strange brown eyes met his own. "You're my best friend, you know that, right?"

"I thought that the idiot was your best friend." The harshness in Hiei's voice fell flat and he cringed, finding that he sounded needy.

"Well, yeah, but Kuwabara is…well…Kuwabara."

Hiei snorted, and Yusuke took that as understanding.

Lines creased Yusuke's forehead, his mouth settling into a thin line as he tightened the grip on Hiei's face. "I'm worried about you, Hiei." His dark eyes emitted concern and fear as he stared into his friend's face, trying to find any answers that might be lying within. "You haven't been yourself these past few months. You're losing weight-"

"You're imagining things." Hiei tried to pull away, dropping his coat in the process, but Yusuke held him fast.

"Don't play me for a fool Hiei!" Yusuke snapped. "Something is wrong with you, something serious. Please," his countenance became vulnerable and Hiei took in a sharp breath, "I'm your friend, you can tell me. Whatever it is, I can help."

_No, you can't help. Nobody can._

"Yusuke…" Hiei faltered, a small spark of guilt fluttering in his chest. In a way, he wanted to tell him; sometimes the burden felt twice as heavy because he carried it alone. But really, what would happen if he poured himself out to the boy in front of him? What would Yusuke say?

It wasn't like he hadn't tried before. When the depression started all those years ago he had reached out to others – telling his mother, his sister, his friends, that he was sad and that he was scared; however, he received dismissal, misunderstanding, and carefully placed looks of caution, none of which helped him with his problem. Of the few friends who had tried, their assistance was only temporary and wasn't nearly enough: depression is long term and after a few months of wearing on his friends with his sadness Hiei decided that it was better off if he dealt with the issue himself. He wasn't going to end up as one of those pathetic whiny sullen bastards who constantly drone on and on about the dismal despair of their existence; his life wasn't a pity party.

_Fuck that, I'd rather die than become the poster boy for emo._

Even if he told Yusuke now, really, what would be the outcome? Spending the rest of the school year, possibly longer, on the fourth floor of Westchester Medical Center, drugged up on antidepressants and talking about his feelings?

No, that wasn't a solution, and that's exactly what would happen to him if he blurted out his plans.

_It's better this way. It's not their fault, they just can't help me. I can't even help myself._

"I-I'm just not getting enough sleep. I think it's the stress of graduation and my mom throwing me out." Hiei managed a fake but rather convincing smile, making sure his words held a bit of reluctance to them so Yusuke would think they were forced out. "I'll deal with it."

"That's not everything," Yusuke pushed, but at that moment, someone started pounding on the door so violently that both boys were surprised it remained on the hinges.

"_Yusuke!_ Are you in there?" Keiko's voice was shrill, making its way into the room as if there wasn't a thick piece of painted wood separating her from them.

Hiei's insides shook with relief. _I think I love you Keiko._

"_BUSY!_" Yusuke screamed, his hands still resting on the sides of Hiei's face.

"Whatareya jerkin off in there?" Chu's crumpled Australian accent was quickly followed by three loud thumps as he pounded on the door again. The final thump had a thicker sound to it, indicating that he had used his head to bang on the door instead of his fist.

"Goddammit." Yusuke muttered. Letting go of Hiei's face, Yusuke tucked his white t-shirt back into his jeans then ran a hand over his clothing, making sure that nothing was amiss from before. Hiei took a few steps back, picking his coat up off the floor and draping it over his arm.

"This conversation isn't finished," Yusuke stated, walking toward the door.

Hiei sniffed. _Yes it is._

The door flew open as soon as Yusuke turned the lock on the doorknob and Keiko, Chu, and Botan immediately poured into the room.

"What were you guys doing in here?" Keiko asked Yusuke in her usual accusing tone.

Without missing a beat Yusuke answered "Having sex." Hiei's eyes went as wide as saucers and he looked down to hide his expression, pretending to search his pockets for cigarettes.

Keiko gave him a look brimming with annoyance. "Very funny Yusuke. Come on, this is _your_ party, you can't just disappear on your guests like that." Yusuke took a quick glance at Hiei, his face a mixture of insistence and apology as Keiko grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room.

Botan held back, standing by the bed with a disgusted expression on her face as Chu began to rifle through the dresser; after searching through a few drawers, he pulled out a pair of pink panties, sniffed them, and then stuffed them in his pocket with a look of victory. Hiei raised an eyebrow at Chu but basically disregarded the two until the blue-haired girl, who had edged closer to Hiei and further away from the burly snoop asked "Have you seen Kurama?"

"No, why would I?" Tossing his coat onto the bed, he lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. He was glad that his conversation with Yusuke had been interrupted and hoped that the other two would take the hint and leave. He wanted to be alone.

Botan frowned at him. "We can't find him; I thought he might be with you." When Hiei studied his cigarette instead of answering she sighed, throwing her hands in the air.

"Whatever." Huffing in frustration she left, Chu quickly following as he filched a second pair of panties, shoveing them in his pocket and giving Hiei a thumbs up as he closed the door.

Hiei dashed across the room, locking the door about a second after it shut, then he began pacing, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, trying to damn the tears that threatened to spill over and release the reality that he'd been denying for the last few moments.

_It's already beginning…I'm losing everything._ He stopped pacing, stared blankly at the wall. _I thought I had more time, I thought I'd beat them to it._

The entire group, most of whom Hiei had known since kindergarten, were at a turning point in their lives. This was the year that they all turned eighteen, the year where they finally graduated from high school.

The year that everything changed.

The year where they all moved on.

They were about to push open the gates to their future, eager for the promise of success, ready to taste the freedoms of adulthood.

But not Hiei; by the end of the summer he would be homeless and alone, his friends scattered to different cities and colleges, what little stability and sanity they gave him gone as well. He had anticipated the loss and with his condition worsening had been seriously considering suicide for some time, the final decision made and the plans beginning as soon as his mother informed him that he was no longer welcome at home after the end of June.

_Even if I could get it together what do I have to look forward to? Working a dumb job for the next fifty years just to pay the rent? Struggling to make ends meet, losing touch with everyone until I'm just an old man – bitter, desperate and alone?_

_No._

Hiei gritted his teeth in frustration, a few tears leaking out despite his attempt at self-control. He knew the changes were coming but he didn't know they would come so soon. He thought that he had at least a few more months before the future swept in, altering everyone's lives and sending him to his grave.

Doubling over, Hiei dropped to his knees as the heaviness returned in a weighted rush, spreading across his chest and through his soul, realization fueling the fire, aiding in his quick descent. The cigarette between his lips fell to the floor as his breath came in quick gasps and his body began to wrack with sobs.

_No, I can't handle this right now, it's too much._

And then it began, like a mantra.

_Pain._

If he wanted to get out of this apartment and back home he needed more pain. It would give him the release he needed to make it through the next few hours; after all, he was stuck here until Kuwabara and Yukina decided that they wanted to go home and it was too far to walk back to his place.

_Pain._

Blinded by tears Hiei scrambled, yanking up the shirt sleeves on his right arm with a trembling hand and tearing at the gauze with frantic fingernails until pieces fell away, drifting to the floor. Long ragged strips of white hung from his arm as he did the first thing he could think of to fight off the suffocating black waves.

_Pain._

Grabbing the still burning cigarette from the floor, he ground it into the center of his right forearm, crying out in a mix of agony, hopelessness, and hatred. He could hear the sizzle of his skin, could smell his flesh cooking as it bubbled up around the burn, and the hot jolts of searing pain – which shot up his arm and through his body - began to dampen his mental anguish, although not nearly enough. He choked and hiccupped, his tears making small dark circles on the carpet below as he kept twisting his hand with an intense desperation, grinding the cigarette in further until it went out, searching for that level of pain which would give him the release he needed so badly right now.

_Look at what I have become._

Practically incoherent from the various layers of agony, Hiei fell backward against the dresser with a strangled sob, thin trickles of blood trailing down an arm that now hung limply at his side, the mangled remains of the cigarette bouncing on the carpet and rolling away from him as he waited for the pain to settle in and the heaviness to lift once again. Hearing a noise that he couldn't place, he weakly turned his blotched and swollen face toward the window -

And looked directly into Kurama's eyes.

_Shit._

Time became a gossamer concept, and all that could be heard was Hiei's laboured breathing as they stared at each other. Kurama stood in front of the open window, nose and face red from his extended stay in the cold, his expression unreadable as he gazed at Hiei's unmasked anguished form. The smaller boy was too overwhelmed to move; the combination of his infliction, the weighted torrent of emotion, and the fact that he had been caught in such a private moment were too much for him to sort through and comprehend. His brain went into overload then slowed to a crawl. He couldn't even speak, all he could do was stare at the redhead in front of him as a few more glistening tears escaped, slipping down his cheeks and falling unheeded to the floor.

Outside, Kurama had succumbed to the cold somewhere between Yusuke's admission and Botan's inquiry, his brain going as numb as his limbs. Once he heard the door slam he stretched and shook his legs, trying to get his blood pumping enough to stand while taking a quick glance inside. The window's limited view showed him most of the bedroom, and if he had leaned in to the right a bit he would have seen a frail quaking boy pacing back and forth in the corner of the room. It took a few moments before his legs were working properly again, and his frozen mind forgot to remind him to double-check that the room was empty before he climbed back in.

_Talk about a brain freeze._

Hiei's heart-wrenching cry struck Kurama like a blow to the chest, almost dropping him as he stepped through the window, and he knew that the sound would haunt him for days. Frantic wailing energy surrounded the redhead as he froze in place, watching Hiei break and shatter. The boy literally crumbled before him, and for a second Kurama thought about trying to go back out onto the fire escape but he had already seen too much. Wincing, Kurama hunched over a little as the anguished sobs stabbed him to the core, each sound an eerie echo of his own pain, reminding him of all the hopeless cries that fell from his own lips too many times to count. As Hiei shed bitter desperate tears Kurama felt an undeniable connection, and once those pained brown eyes met his he knew that he had found what he was looking for.

_Someone like me…someone who understands me._

Understanding was a rare freedom in the prison of Kurama's isolation, and even though he knew that Hiei's time was not only limited, but minimal, he would take what he could get; endurance was a lonely pursuit and any camaraderie would help. Kurama had tried to find company in his despair many times before and always ended up disappointed; however, there was something different about the broken boy before him, something that drove him to try once more, something that made him think that they could help each other…

Something that fascinated him.

_It's time I stopped watching._

Without a word, Kurama snapped into motion. Taking his gloves off and throwing them on the bed he turned away, walking into the adjoining bathroom. Hiei could hear the redhead shuffling around in there; the sounds of running water and the opening and closing of cabinets reached his ears and he sniffled, wondering if he should just grab his coat and leave. However, the shock and strain hadn't worn off yet, and the heaviness – which had not lifted - was now laced with pain, so he remained strewn on the floor of the bedroom, defeated, the silent wreckage of a lost battle against the darker forces of his soul.

Appearing again, Kurama crossed the room holding several items in his long-fingered white hands. Mute, he kneeled beside Hiei, setting everything out on the floor next to them: two washcloths – one wet and one dry, a bottle of peroxide, a tube of ointment, a roll of white tape, and some bandages. Shrugging off his coat and throwing it aside, Kurama looked briefly into Hiei's eyes, those green pools asking for permission. Hiei met his gaze and was surprised to find nothing but that simple request within it - no pity, no disgust, no fear - and he closed his own eyes in a gesture of acquiescence, another tear gathering along his lashes and sliding down his face.

Gently, Kurama held Hiei's damaged arm and removed what was left of the earlier bandaging; he then cleaned the blood from the limb and the wound itself with meticulous care, using the wet washcloth first and then the dry one. The peroxide came next, and as Kurama applied it to the burn Hiei's eyes flew open but he made no sound; peroxide always stung - although in this case it probably seared - and once he was done with that step Kurama hesitated for a moment, looking into Hiei's brown orbs again and silently asking if he could continue. At the slight tilt of the smaller boy's head Kurama proceeded, smearing a generous amount of ointment over the wound and taping a small square bandage over it. Hiei watched with numb detachment; the reality of his situation hadn't caught up with him yet but some recessed part of his mind was taken aback – he had never received such tender care before and was unsure of how to respond.

With Shiori being a nurse Kurama had been trained in all areas of first aid, but this was the first time he had gotten to apply his knowledge. Taking that bony arm by the wrist Kurama turned it a bit, scanning the longer slashes that ran from wrist to elbow and he frowned.

_I guess he ran out of room on the left arm. These are going to need treatment as well._

With the ointment and what remained of the bandages Kurama continued his ministrations, coating Hiei's right forearm with the clear gel and carefully wrapping it in a thin layer of gauze. Once he was finished he gestured toward Hiei's other arm with a raised eyebrow and the small boy offered it to Kurama wordlessly, not questioning how the redhead knew that the left limb was damaged as well.

Making his way around to the other side of Hiei's body, Kurama placed the arm in his lap. Pulling up Hiei's sleeves, he slowly unwound the worn and slightly dirty bandages. Except for the faint hiss between his teeth once the ragged gashes were revealed, the redhead continued to work in silence, establishing a gentle connection with his care. Hiei was confused, the quiet he received from others usually reeked of negativity: his mother's silence was one of dismissal, Karasu's silence was one of indifference, his friend's silences were borne of discomfort…

However, this was different, very different. Kurama's silence was one of –

_Understanding?_

As if to punctuate the discovery, Hiei felt that peculiar sensation sweep over him again, the one that left him feeling naked; however, it was not as unsettling as it was before. In fact, upon closer analysis the feeling was actually pleasant, although Hiei still didn't know exactly what it was he was feeling - all he knew was that he felt comfortable in the redhead's presence.

But that was enough, it was more than he had gotten in years.

Kurama had covered most of the boy's left arm with ointment and as he began to bandage the limb, Hiei watched with newfound interest, entranced. The redhead moved with inherent grace, his hands were deft and clever, those cool green eyes even with concentration. Silver-tipped crimson spilled over one shoulder, shadowing a face that was carved from perfection yet stained with tears. The myriad lights of the town poured in through the window, enhancing Kurama's alabaster skin, making him a glowing beacon of comfort, and Hiei found himself possessed by the enigmatic beauty before him.

For a moment he almost forgot his problems, the sadness that placed him here; he was even hard-pressed to remember his own name.

_He's…he's amazing, beautiful…perfect._

_I want him._

Suddenly Kurama stood, breaking Hiei's reverie. About halfway through the bandaging Kurama had run out of gauze and he was intending to look through the bathroom again. A slight cough brought his green eyes to Hiei's face and the smaller boy gestured toward his coat. Glad that he didn't have to ransack the bathroom a second time, Kurama picked up the coat and, after a quick search through the pockets, came up with two bundles of gauze.

_At least he came prepared._

Kneeling down again, Kurama started winding long white strips around the arm from where he had stopped before, working his way from the center of Hiei's forearm down to his delicate wrist, tucking the end of the bandage under and placing a piece of tape across the top. Finished, he began to gather the various items strewn along the floor, eager to put everything back in its place before someone decided to check the bedroom again.

"Were you out there the whole time?" the smaller boy's voice was so low that Kurama wasn't sure if he'd actually heard it. Glancing up, he saw the question in Hiei's eyes and he sighed, looking away.

"Yes."

"How much did you hear?"

Their eyes locked again.

"Enough."

Despite his attempts not to eavesdrop - he wasn't eager for a repeat performance of the other day - there were moments where the conversation had reached Kurama's ears, and he had a pretty good idea of what had happened.

_I guess I'm going to have to refer to Yusuke by name now, not as "the guy whose girlfriend doesn't put out"._

Kurama felt for Hiei, understood why the boy had denied Yusuke's help. When your existence is as bleak as the snow-filled streets outside there is no help, not even from the closest of friends. There is only escape.

A surprisingly warm finger brushed Kurama's cheek. "You've been crying."

Kurama started at the touch, but managed not to pull away. "Yes," he admitted softly.

_It's been a rough night for both of us._

Standing, Kurama placed the items back in the bathroom and when he returned to the bedroom, Hiei was fidgeting, radiating discomfort. Now that the smaller boy's wits had returned, the reality that he had been seen was staring to shake him. He was wondering if he was going to be exposed and was embarrassed and unsure of how to ask the question. Taking a deep breath, he stuttered "A-Are you…? You're not…?" then stopped, pursing his lips, unable to look into the redhead's eyes.

Kurama understood. Kneeling down beside Hiei, Kurama's lips thinned into a grim smile and with a voice that seemed much older than his years, he said, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I've done a lot worse to purge myself of my own pain." Slowly, he pulled up the sleeve on his black sweater and extended his left arm, showing it to Hiei, who gasped.

A long, very deep scar marred the limb, running from the center of Kurama's wrist up past the elbow, disappearing under the sleeve bunched at the top.

That type of scar had only one purpose, was singular in its desire, and Hiei was sure that if he searched, there would be a similar scar on Kurama's other arm and another more jagged one on his soul.

_He suffers too…_

"Do you want to get out of here?" Kurama asked, pulling his sleeve back down. "I was going to call a cab."

Hiei only nodded, too struck to speak, and allowed Kurama to help him stand. Picking up his coat, Hiei watched as the redhead closed the window then put on his own gloves and coat. Reaching into one of the pockets, Kurama pulled out a cell phone, but before he dialed Hiei crossed the room, stopping him by placing a small hand on his arm.

At the redhead's questioning look Hiei took in a deep breath and then did something he hadn't done in years.

Looking up at Kurama, he whispered, "_Thank you._"

* * *

><p>With a honk and a screech, the cab pulled away in a cloud of choking smoke, leaving two coughing and shivering boys at the end of Hiei's driveway. The brittle air seemed even colder after the heated ride home and Kurama wrapped his coat tightly around himself, suppressing a self-depreciating chuckle once he glanced at his watch.<p>

_I'm home and it's not even midnight. A few years ago I would just be_ getting _to the party._

They had managed to extricate themselves from Yusuke's birthday celebration with little fanfare. Upon leaving the bedroom Hiei pulled Yukina aside and Kurama watched as they exchanged a few words, then Yukina glanced his way with a raised eyebrow, nodded, and the two boys slipped out the front door.

At that point everyone else was too drunk or too preoccupied to notice; they would've said goodbye to Yusuke, but the birthday boy had passed out on the living room floor and several of his _friends_ were busy decorating him with Botan's makeup while Kuwabara documented everything on film.

"You know that those pictures will be all over school on Monday," Hiei said, hands cupped around his face as he tried to light a cigarette in the wind.

"Poor Yusuke," Kurama reflected, "now he'll never be able to run for President."

Hiei smirked, surprised and greatly amused by the redhead's penchant for sarcasm. At first Kurama seemed like the quiet type. but the more Hiei saw, the more he realized that the redhead only showed people what he wanted them to see. Kurama's mask was far sturdier and much more elaborate than Hiei's, which meant that the redhead had a history of pain that not only rivaled but possibly eclipsed his own.

_That scar, I wonder how long ago that was._

"What did you tell your sister?" Kurama asked, eyes moving from the hypnotizing trails of smoke that streamed from Hiei's cigarette to the crescent moon that loomed above his head.

"I told her that we were going home to fuck," Hiei answered quickly, tapping ash onto the driveway.

Kurama's eyes dropped back down to the smaller boy's face. "Really?" Funny, he wasn't upset, merely curious. Fucking Hiei seemed to be the trend in this town, so Kurama was pretty certain that the fib would be taken in stride.

"No," Hiei replied with a snort, "I told her that you didn't feel well and I was bored. She didn't mind."

Kurama responded with a faint, "Oh," then resumed his study of the night sky. Hiei remained silent, shifting around in the cold; despite his three shirts and heavy winter coat the freezing temperatures bit into him, making his bones ache and his limbs tremble. The nicotine did help him feel warmer but what he really wanted was Kurama to heat his blood.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature ran through Hiei as he pictured the redhead above him, flushed and sweaty, lips swollen, eyes almost jade with lust. If Kurama sought refuge in passion the way Hiei did their coupling would be like nothing he'd ever experienced before; it would be fiercer than what he had with Yusuke, more savage than what he had with Karasu –

Hiei started, dropping his cigarette.

_Karasu. Those eyes watching us through the shade…_

"You pervert!" Hiei shouted, pointing a finger at Kurama. "_You_ were the one watching me and Karasu in the music room the other day."

The redhead slowly lowered his gaze until those guilty green eyes rested on the accusing digit. "Me?" he asked, expression neutral.

"Yes you!" Hiei insisted, hiding a smirk. He wasn't mad at all; in fact, he was _glad_ that the offending pair of eyes belonged to Kurama. Better him than anyone else. However, Hiei wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to tease the redhead and he was interested to see Kurama's reaction.

Pursing his lips, the redhead gave Hiei a considering look, then admitted, "It couldn't be helped. You're pretty loud, you know." Kurama was not easily embarrassed, not with what he'd done in his _previous_ life; mostly, he was concerned that the smaller boy would hate him, although Kurama couldn't quite figure out if Hiei was mad or not.

Titling his head and narrowing his eyes, Hiei maintained the farce. "Are you stalking me? First Karasu, then the fire escape tonight-"

"I am _not_ stalking you!" Kurama insisted, a little more forcefully than he would have liked. "I was out on the fire escape because I wanted to be _alone_." The sudden vehemence caused the redhead's cheeks to flush and his eyes to flash. It was one thing for Hiei to know that he'd eavesdropped, it was another thing for him to think that it was all done on purpose.

Hiei grinned internally. Finally, he had gotten some emotion out of the redhead.

"Whatever. I don't really care," he stated, his expression melting from suspicion back into his usual mask of indifference, although there was now a bit of smug pride mixed in since he had ruffled the redhead a bit.

Kurama blinked a few times, unused to being teased. _So, he's not really mad? He doesn't care at all?_ Then he grinned slightly, further intrigued by the small fiery boy beside him. _Wow, he's really a piece of work._

A few seconds passed in silence, broken by a jingle as Hiei pulled out his keys, making it obvious that he was thinking about going inside. "Kurama?" he began.

"Yes?"

"Do you still want to be alone?" The question was asked so that it could be interpreted in many different ways.

Kurama turned away to stare into the velvet sky again. "I don't know," he answered. His voice was soft, barely a whisper above the wind as he lost himself within the pattern of stars. He was tired but he knew he wouldn't sleep, not with his memories playing like a slide show in his dreams. It was becoming too much to feel such love and contentment as he slept and then wake up to the cold reality of his isolation.

A small but strong arm wrapped around the redhead's waist, holding him tightly as he jumped, startled. Turning his head, Kurama found that Hiei's face was inches from his own and his breath hitched as he stared into the deepest, most unusual brown eyes he had ever seen, eyes that were practically red as they reflected the moonlight.

"Kurama," Hiei spoke in a low sultry whisper, his warm breath ghosting across Kurama's lips and causing him to shiver, "do you want to come inside?"

The arm around Kurama's waist tightened, causing his pulse to quicken and his heart to beat wildly in his chest. He found himself sweating in the chill air, the warmth of the small body close to him heating not only his skin but his soul. It was one thing to watch Hiei from afar, but it was another to be surrounded by his sexuality; the lust and need the small boy exuded was almost palpable, and he glowed with a submissive allure that promised incredible pleasures. Finally, the redhead understood why Hiei had so many partners – the aura coming off the boy was addictive, making you want so much more as soon as you had the tiniest taste.

Hiei pressed closer, causing Kurama's shaft to stir and reawaken after its long hibernation, and suddenly the redhead found that he had lost all access to rational thought. All he wanted was to feel the softness of the boy's lips, the hot pliant body against his; it had been so long since he had felt anything for anyone besides grief and his senses were too overwhelmed by desire for him to think clearly.

Before he knew what he was doing Kurama leaned down, pressing his lips to Hiei's in a chaste kiss, and for a moment there were no promises - only the shudder of his body as the walls of his isolation rippled and cracked.

Standing on his toes Hiei returned the kiss, tangling his free hand in that vibrant red hair. Then, tilting his head, he opened his mouth and traced the seam of Kurama's lips with his tongue.

That wet burning contact jolted Kurama and he slammed back into reality with a gasp, pulling away with wide eyes.

_Oh god, what am I doing?_

Wrenching himself out of Hiei's grasp, Kurama took a few steps back, guilt washing across his features, turning his perfect face into a visage of regretful shame.

"I-I-I'm sorry," was all he managed to force out before turning and dashing across the street.

Hiei watched, numb with shock, as Kurama ran away like a spooked chicken, stopping only to fumble with the lock on the front door of his condo before stumbling inside and slamming the door behind him, never looking back.

_Twice in one night,_ Hiei sniffed, _that has_ got _to be a record._

With a sigh Hiei went inside and made another pot of coffee. Once he poured himself a cup of the steaming beverage, he settled down on the floor of his bedroom with his back against the mattress and stared idly at the wall, deep in thought.

_Maybe Kurama is straight,_ he mused, then shook his head with a smirk. _Yeah, well, Yuskue was straight before I got my hands on him. It's definitely more than that, he's been hurt before. Badly._

Lightly stroking his bandaged right arm, Hiei reveled in the small unusual feeling of comfort the redhead had sparked within him. Despite the refusals this evening and the resulting lack of pleasure, he felt lighter than he should and more relaxed than he had been in weeks. It was surprising, but he wasn't about to question why; he just wanted to enjoy it.

It wasn't long before his eyelids began to droop and his head nodded forward. Placing his mug on the floor, he lethargically climbed into his unmade bed. As he pulled the blankets over his head he wrapped his right arm protectively around a small stuffed black dragon, clutching it to his chest and nuzzling the top of its head. His father had given him the stuffed toy when he was three and in a string of childhood gibberish he had named it Koku. At this point Koku was missing an eye, most of its scales, and was grossly leaking cotton, but to Hiei that toy was his most precious possession. Koku had been with him for long as he could remember - it was a loyal friend, a silent witness to his pain, and a quiet calming companion.

Hiei wanted to be buried with it.

Curling around the dragon, Hiei sunk into the soft folds of the bed. Lost in the comforting thoughts of an enigmatic redhead, he did something that he hadn't done in days.

He slept.


	4. March 17th, 2005

~Author's Note~

-Warnings: Yaoi, Violence, Gay-bashing, Self-Mutilation, and lots of angst.

-This is a Kurama/Hiei story but Hiei does get around. Pairings this chapter: Hiei/Mukuro

* * *

><p><em>"With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: it is not a repented error shaken loose from the life: it is a still quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavors and the tinglings of a merited shame."<em>  
><strong>George Eliot<strong>

**Chapter 4: March 17th, 2005**

Kurama sat alone in the back corner of the cafeteria, staring with glazed eyes at an untouched lunch.

_She tries so hard, she really does, but food isn't what I need._

He felt vaguely guilty that Shiori took the time everyday to make sure that he had a nutritious meal when all he ever did was stare at it and then throw it away. Of course, there were days where he ate almost half, the rare times when he ate more than half, but mostly his stomach remained in knots and appetite was a foreign concept to him. He managed to maintain his weight well enough to keep up appearances but since Yusuke's party his dreams had become more intense and lately all meals were bothersome and all food was forced down.

Kurama jumped as a heavily wrinkled test was flung over his shoulder and a large 79 circled in red encompassed his field of vision.

"Check it out city-boy! I _passed_!" Yusuke's voice was euphoric but it had an edge of stunned disbelief, as if the numbers could possibly be lying to him. Dropping the test in Kurama's lap, Yusuke took a seat beside the redhead, eyeing his lunch.

"Are you gonna eat that?" he asked, pointing at the unopened brown bag. Kurama shook his head and pushed the food toward Yusuke, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he picked up the test and studied it.

"Well done Yusuke," he said, watching as the dark-haired teen wolfed down the sandwich that Shiori made this morning.

Swallowing, Yusuke gestured emphatically, crumbs flying everywhere. "Hey, I didn't do anything but listen, this is all _you_ Kurama." His trademark cocky-half smile returned and his deep brown eyes sparkled. "I owe you one." Then he immediately went back to eating.

Kurama studied the ravenous teen with affection; over the past few weeks the two had become fast friends – once Yusuke decided to show up to class Kurama found that they had similar schedules and when the redhead discovered that Yusuke might not graduate because he didn't understand geometry, he surprised himself by stepping in to help out. School always came easily to Kurama; he wasn't incredibly smart, just perceptive – within a few weeks he could figure out just how much he needed to do to please the teacher and get a passing grade. It was very similar to what he was doing for Shiori now, and having Yusuke by so he could tutor him in math added to the illusion that he was _just fine_.

Besides, he legitimately liked Yusuke. The chaotic boy had an energy about him that was raw yet charming and he made Kurama's endurance slightly easier. Life was definitely not boring while Yusuke was around.

"You don't owe me anything," Kurama stated, tossing the test back at his friend. The sandwich was finished in record time and Yusuke tore into the second course - a bag of chips - scattering a few across the table in his eagerness.

"Don't you eat at home?" the redhead asked, watching his friend down far too many chips with a matching amount of soda.

Once Yusuke swallowed, he took a deep breath and replied, "Well, Mom always leaves me money, but I ran out and she's not coming back up here for a few days."

"Let me guess." Kurama smiled sardonically. "You spent it on beer."

"And prom tickets," Yusuke added with a face. "They announced the date Monday and Keiko's been up my ass since then. I figured the quicker I buy the tickets, the quicker I get some peace." He eyed the redhead. "You know, you should go. Kuwabara and Yukina are going, and I'm sure Botan won't let Koenma out of it, and if you come too we could have a hell of a table going-"

"I think I'll pass," Kurama stated with a disgusted look. "Although that does explain why I've been getting more than my usual share of desperate stares lately." The energy coming from his admirers had been more intense over the last few days and yesterday he even had to dodge a few of his stalkers by hiding in the boy's bathroom during last period.

"Hell, with the way you look you probably need to beat them off with a bat, or a crowbar," Yusuke laughed. "I guess the rumour that Yukina tried to spread isn't working."

"Oh, so you heard about that?" Kurama asked.

"Yeah," Yusuke replied, "but it got sidetracked once Kuwabara put up all those pictures of me wearing Botan's makeup."

"Well you looked so pretty Urameshi, how could I resist?" Kuwabara stated, breaking away from a group of his teammates to join Yusuke and Kurama. Leaning his lacrosse stick against the table, he sat down next to the redhead and predictably snatched Yusuke's soda, taking several large gulps from it before putting the can back on the table.

"You know I backwashed in that," Yusuke said, stuffing another handful of chips in his mouth.

"That's OK." Kuwabara was unfazed. "I like it chunky."

Kurama made another disgusted face; most of the time the boys' constant bickering was fun but there were moments when they crossed the line. "I think that's enough for me." He stood, gathering his books. "We have chemistry in a few minutes." He glanced at Yusuke, "I'll see you there."

The dark-haired teen brushed his hands off on his jeans and stood as well. "I'll go with you. Can we make a pit stop first?"

Kurama gave Yusuke a forced smile. "I guess so." He had wanted a few moments to himself before the next class, because of his troubled sleep and diminishing appetite his mental state had worsened, and lately he needed a few breaks during the day to collect himself and steady the mask.

But it looked like he wasn't getting one of those reprieves anytime soon.

"Coming Kuwabara?" Yusuke gathered the remnants of Kurama's lunch into a ball and tossed it into the immense garbage can by the door. The carrot-top nodded, slinging his lacrosse stick over one shoulder as they started upstairs toward the second floor bathroom.

"So, did you buy your tickets too?" Yusuke asked Kuwabara as they made their way through the halls.

"Got them yesterday. Table three, right?"

"Yeah. I tried to convince red to go," Yusuke jerked a thumb at Kurama, who silently lagged behind the two boys, "but I don't think that's happening."

Kuwabara stopped and turned toward his quiet friend. "Come on Kurama, you should go with us, it'll be fun. I mean, it's not like you couldn't get a date or anything –"

"It's really not my thing," Kurama stated, almost a bit too forcefully.

_I'd rather gouge out my eyes with a dull pencil than go to my high school prom with some…_girl.

"Yeah, well, it's really not my thing either," Yusuke crossed his arms behind his head, strutting down the hallway, "but the prom isn't optional when you date Keiko."

Kurama stared at Yusuke's back with a raised eyebrow. _Maybe he's the one who needs to buy a dress._

"So where were you last night Kuwabara?" Yusuke had turned and was now facing his friends, walking backwards down the hallway. "I called you but no one picked up over there."

"What am I, your girlfriend? I don't remember giving you permission to keep tabs on me Urameshi." The taller boy whipped his lacrosse stick around with amazing dexterity and slapped Yusuke on the hip.

"FUCK!" The dark-haired teen yelped, trying to catch the stick and turn the tables, but Kuwabara was too fast. They started circling each other, making their way toward the bathroom at the end of the hall while exchanging punches, kicks and slaps. Kurama held back a few feet, used to the violent and playful display. Yukina was indeed correct in her statement, the two teens did communicate with fists; however, their friendship seemed to be stronger because of that, their bond unwavering and solid.

Finally, they stopped outside the bathroom door, and Kuwabara relented. "Yukina and I went out to dinner with my sister's boyfriend last night."

"That rich dude?" Yusuke asked, patting the top of his head to make sure his hair was still slicked back after the physical activity.

"Yeah. His name's Sakyo. He seems to make her happy, not that she'd put up with him if he didn't." Shizuru was a sure confident woman, someone who combined the aspects of strength and femininity quite nicely, and it was well known that she didn't put up with any shit. However, because of that she went through men like nail polish, and everyone was surprised that she'd found somebody who'd made it through her two-month trial period, or what Kuwabara referred to as _Shizuru Boot Camp._

"But you don't like him," Yusuke observed as they entered the bathroom.

"Not really," Kuwabara admitted. "There's just something about him that's off, but I can't put my finger on it and I'm not going to give Shizuru a hard time just because I feel weird about him. She'd kick my ass."

Yusuke sniggered, checking his hair in the mirror. "No doubt. She could kick all our asses."

"How did they meet?" Kurama asked, settling against the wall in the corner of the bathroom.

"He's a silent partner in the place she bartends at, he practically owns it. One night he went there anonymously to have a few drinks and make sure everything was running smoothly and they ended up talking until the place closed." Kuwabara leaned his lacrosse stick on the wall next to Kurama while Yusuke looked for an open stall. "She never stops talking about him though," the carrot-top added, "it's really annoying."

"You think the school would fix this thing already." Yusuke kicked the door to the third stall, which had an _Out of Order_ sign posted on it. "This one's been broken forever."

"Just hurry up Urameshi," Kuwabara ordered as the bell rang and students spilled into the hallways. "Don't make us late for class. Mr. Scanlon has a fit whenever someone's late and I don't feel like hearing his mouth today."

"English?" Kurama asked.

"Yeah," Kuwabara replied. Students were staring to file in and out of the bathroom at a crazy pace, deafening noise from the hallway sweeping in every time someone opened the door. Kurama pressed himself against the wall, gripping his books with white-knuckled fists. Sometimes the torrent of emotion was almost too much and if he let it build, as he had been for most of the day, he had serious problems dealing with it, especially when he was subjected to crowds.

Kurama's discomfort did not escape the taller boy. Although Kuwabara often came across as the dumb jock, that assessment could not be further from the truth. Actually, the boy was quite perceptive and had picked up almost immediately on Kurama's troubled nature. He knew that the redhead had some deep-seated issues, and was suffering from a level of despair and angst that far surpassed the usual amount found in most teenagers; however, what troubled Kurama was his business and it wasn't Kuwabara's place to interfere. The best thing the carrot-top could do was be a good friend and leave himself open so that if Kurama wanted to talk he felt welcome to do so.

Kuwabara also knew that there was something wrong with Hiei as well but it was hard to pinpoint since Yukina's brother had always been standoffish and dour. Lately though, Kuwabara got this nervous feeling in his stomach whenever he thought about his small friend and couldn't shake the feeling that something was imminent, and very wrong. He talked it over with Yukina and Yusuke, but Yukina insisted that Hiei was just being Hiei and Yusuke seemed weird about the topic, telling Kuwabara almost too emphatically that everything was fine and that there wasn't anything to worry about.

But still…his hunches usually ended up being right.

"You still haven't heard from Hiei at all?" he asked Kurama. The green-eyed boy shook his head.

"I think he's avoiding us," he stated. _And after what Yuskue and I did that night, I don't blame him. _

Yusuke finally emerged from the stall, and went over to the sink to wash his hands. "Has _anyone_ seen short stack in last two weeks?" His voice held more than a little concern and Kurama could see guilt in those dark eyes.

"Yukina was over there on Saturday and she said he had the flu," Kuwabara stated. "According to her he looked terrible and she tried to get him to go to the doctor, but of course, he wouldn't."

"Well, that explains why we haven't seen him, but still…he doesn't return any of my calls and I've been over there three times – and I _know_ he's home – but he doesn't answer the door," Yusuke stated with a frown.

"Did anything happen at the party?" Kuwabara asked.

"_No!_" Kurama and Yusuke answered at the same time. They both looked at each other in shock, although Kurama's expression was a bit more knowing than Yusuke's.

"O…K…" Kuwabara said slowly, his gaze going from Yusuke to Kurama and back again. Then he shrugged. "Whenever you guys decide to straighten yourselves out, give me a call. I'm going to class." Grabbing his lacrosse stick, he weaved his way through the students crowded around the sinks and left.

Yusuke tilted his head, studying Kurama, who was still huddled in the corner of the bathroom, eyes now on the floor. He had asked the redhead what had happened between him and Hiei after the party more than once and always got the same answer – _nothing_ – but somehow it never sat right with him. There was something Kurama wasn't telling him but Yusuke knew better than to push. Something was wrong with his quiet new friend and Yusuke knew that if he pressed too hard, whatever connection they had would immediately be destroyed.

"You wanna go?" Yusuke asked as the bathroom began to clear out, students hurrying toward their next class, trying to beat the late bell.

Kurama took a deep breath. The mask was cracking and he desperately needed some time to collect himself if he was going to make it through the rest of the day. Images flashed through his head and his legs began to wobble. Forcing another smile his shook his head and said, "You go ahead, I'm not feeling that well."

"I can wait for you," Yusuke offered.

"No, I might be awhile, and you can't afford to be late. Mr. Ventura already hates you and you need to pass Chemistry." He used every fiber in his being to will Yusuke to go to class and leave him alone.

Yusuke frowned and looked hesitant, but reluctantly agreed. He wasn't stupid; Kurama obviously wanted to be left alone, and although the redhead tried to hide his troubles there was no mistaking the haunted desperation in those green eyes. So Yusuke played along, giving Kurama whatever reprieve he needed, and left with a smile and a laughable promise to take notes until he showed up to class. As soon as the door swung closed, leaving Kurama by himself, the late bell rang and the redhead breathed a sigh of relief, dropping his books and ignoring them as they scattered across the bathroom floor.

Strange, he knew he was alone – a quick check of the stalls verified that, he even glanced under the _Out Of Order_ stall to make sure – but he still felt as if someone were watching him. Shrugging it aside, he ran a hand through his hair and entered the last stall, locking the door behind him. Sitting sideways on the toilet with his back against the wall, he hugged his legs to his chest and listened for a moment, checking one final time to make sure that he was by himself.

And then he let go.

* * *

><p>Hiei's wrists were killing him. He had spent the past two days at Karasu's house and for the last half of the second day he had been secured to the gothic boy's bed with a pair of platinum handcuffs. During those sex-soaked hours they had fucked countless times, to the point that Hiei could barely walk, and now almost every part of his body bore Karasu's mark. Whip lashes decorated his back, his buttocks were sore and brusied, his arms and legs ached from being held in impossible positions for too long, and his passage seared with a cold delicious pain.<p>

However, the most beautiful results of their coupling were the purple and black bruises that the handcuffs had left on his delicate wrists. They swirled with dark menacing colours, a visual badge of Hiei's pain, and he hadn't tired of studying them. Whenever he moved his hands too sharply agony shot through his arms, giving him short stretches of relief throughout the day, keeping the heaviness at bay enough so that he could manage school.

Not that it really mattered. At this point he had no intention of graduating, and his attendance was mainly for show. He wouldn't go to school at all, but a long extended absence would draw too much attention and he couldn't just outright quit without having to answer a series of questions that might end up hindering his ultimate goal: to be in the ground within the next two months.

Hiei had mastered the art of showing up for homeroom so he wouldn't be marked as absent, then spending most of the day either outside at his smoking area or in the second floor boy's bathroom, where a strategically placed _Out of Order_ sign gave him all the privacy he needed. Today had been unmercifully cold, as if winter were trying to get in its last licks before spring took over, and Hiei had no desire to stand outside shivering and chain smoking with frozen hands. So, after homeroom, he made his way to the second floor and passed the hours away in that tiny stall, admiring the bruised impressions on his wrists and outlining his plans over and over again in his head.

_Not much longer…I can do this…not too much longer…_

As usual, the day swept along without Hiei noticing and morning turned into afternoon. Only when the bathroom door opened and he heard familiar voices did Hiei look up with a gasp, pulling his knees to his chest and shrinking into a ball on top of the toilet, feeling vulnerable in his small metal sanctuary.

"But you don't like him…"

_Yusuke. _

"Not really…"

_And Kuwabara. Damn. _

Hiei remained perfectly still, and then he heard the voice that made his chest ache.

"How did they meet?"

_Kurama. _

Hiei felt a pang of guilt. Except for Yukina, he hadn't seen anyone since the party and the reasons behind his seclusion ranged from solid to petty. Mostly, he was worried that if he faced Yusuke again there would be another battery of questions about his well-being, and Yusuke was persistent – he would push until he got some satisfactory answers, answers that Hiei would not be able to give.

Then there was Kurama. Despite the comfort he had received from the redhead, Hiei's confusion about Kurama had grown and Hiei hated being confused almost as much as he hated feeling sad. Usually his emotions were laid out for him and as bad as they were he never had trouble understanding them; however, Hiei couldn't figure out the strange feelings that surrounded him whenever he was in Kurama's presence. The redhead seemed to have an effect on him that no one else did, leaving him naked and exposed under that green gaze, and Hiei felt a pull toward Kurama that almost frightened him. That strange mixture of emotion kept him at a distance and since Kurama seemed to be hanging with Yusuke lately, it was easy to avoid them both.

"You think the school would fix this thing already." Yusuke's voice indicated that he was only inches away, and Hiei's heart almost flew out of his mouth when the entire stall rattled as the door was kicked. "This one's been broken forever."

_Time to find another bathroom. _

The bell rang and the rest of his friends' conversation was swallowed by the noise of students filtering in and out of the bathroom during the change of classes. Hiei strained his ears, trying to catch the sound of the redhead's lilting alto, and it was a moment before he heard the three commenting on his absence.

_"I think he's avoiding us."_

They knew. They knew he was avoiding them. Of course there was no hiding it, for the longer he stayed away the more obvious it was, but it still shocked him a little to hear them say it out loud.

He actually hadn't intended to _avoid_ them, he was just so muddled after the party that he needed some time to breathe and think, and lost in the hungry black waves of depression, days stretched into weeks. In addition to his confusion, over the past seven days his pain had deepened, worsened, the heaviness spreading with suffocating pressure and if he hadn't already steered clear of his friends, he would have started to do so anyway because lately he felt too damn bad to face anyone. He seemed to be hitting another level of despair, for last weekend although he didn't sleep he never left his bed, and the hours passed in a blur of tears and pain - the only interruption being Yukina, who stopped by to drop off the weekly allowance their mother wired from Europe. Innocently convinced that Hiei had the flu, Yukina tried to get him to see a doctor but he assured her that he was fine, adding guilt and regret to the long list of destructive feelings that plagued him.

Against his better judgment, he found himself at Karasu's door a few days later, out of options and ready to erase the agony in any way possible. There were too many feelings inside of him at this point and as many times as he tried to release them at the edge of a blade they remained, almost mocking him with their strength. Hiei was surprised to feel such a mixture of emotion, for during the last few years only the deep heaviness of pain and the mind-numbing escape of pleasure were allowed to him. Lately though things were changing, the scope of his emotion was widening, and although Hiei liked to think that it was due to him nearing the end, his money was on the redhead.

_"You go ahead, I'm not feeling that well…"_

Hiei winced. He knew that tone of voice, could hear the need and insistence behind it. Amazingly, Yusuke seemed to take Kurama's hint and left without too much argument. Hiei remained frozen, arms wrapped around his knees, his feet resting on the toilet in front of him, barely breathing. He knew precisely why Kurama wanted to be alone, and riding on the back of that understanding was a mix of curiosity and fortune, as if he were privy to a great mystical secret. Kurama had seen Hiei maskless, drowning in the depths of his own pain; why not make it an even exchange?

He jumped a bit when Kurama's books hit the floor, and then stifled a gasp when he caught a glimpse of red hair as Kurama checked under the stall. Fortunately for Hiei, Kurama's thoroughness was anything but thorough, and the small boy let out a quiet sigh of relief once Kurama moved on, entering the stall next to Hiei and locking the door.

Silence reigned. Hiei glanced at his wrists, flexing the joint back and forth and shuddering as white jolts of pain lanced his forearms, traveling almost as far as his shoulders. Suddenly, a strangled sob echoed through the bathroom, the mangled cry bouncing off the tiles and Hiei stilled, eyes widening, his wrist bent at an odd angle. Even though he expected the release it still surprised him to hear it, to receive confirmation that Kurama was indeed as damaged as that scar on his arm had indicated. The first sob was quickly followed by others, the cries coming so close together that Hiei wondered if Kurama was even able to breathe, and without realizing he was doing so, Hiei placed his palm on the side of the stall, almost as if he were placing it against Kurama's back in a gesture of comfort.

As quickly as it had begun, Kurama's crying ceased and quiet descended over the small bathroom for a few seconds, only to be broken by a low painful whimper and a soft: _"I'm sorry." _

The utter sorrow in those two words was palpable, tangible, and Hiei found himself unable to breathe under the severity of Kurama's emotion.

_He's…he's in so much pain._

The sobs began again, although this time they sounded somewhat muffled, and Hiei began to move. Quietly, he braced his feet on the top of the toilet and using the hand he'd placed on the wall for balance, he stood, peering over the break between the stalls, his lips settling in a thin line as he caught sight of the redhead.

Kurama was huddled on top of the toilet, much in the same manner that Hiei was; however, he was curled tightly into a ball, arms wrapped around his legs, his forehead resting against his knees. He was listing at an angle, his back and left side leaning against the wall as racking sobs shook his whole body, and Hiei watched the redhead's slender frame quiver and jolt with each cry. Kurama's gentle hands, which had so carefully tended to Hiei's wounds a few weeks ago, fisted in the dark fabric of his pants, then traveled into his hair, grasping the vibrant red strands in desperation, as if they were trying to find some foundation, something to hold onto.

The bathroom door swung open, slamming into the opposite wall with a resounding crash as a few students walked in. Kurama went silent and Hiei dropped from his vantage point into a crouch again, troubled by what he had seen. He wondered why Kurama's pain seemed to spear him straight through, almost as if it were his own, and his confusion was deepened by the fact that he seemed to care about the redhead. Seeing Kurama cry like that made something almost primal surface within Hiei; usually, he felt a strange sort of victory whenever he found someone else hurting, for if he was suffering, why shouldn't everyone? But he felt differently about Kurama, almost protective of him…

Listening to the sounds of the boys who had entered the bathroom, Hiei rubbed his eyes and sighed. Every time he encountered Kurama he ended up dealing with a strange new emotion, and the last thing he wanted was more confusion.

_I need a cigarette. _

The intruders finished their business and washed up quickly. Hiei expected Kurama to start crying again as soon as they left, but instead the redhead left the stall and washed his face at the sink. Peering through the gap at the side of the stall, Hiei watched as Kurama dried his face then braced himself against the sink, head down and shoulders heaving, taking a few deep breaths and donning the mask once again. Once he was steady, the redhead kneeled down, gathered his books off the floor, and after one last check in the mirror he left.

Hiei waited a few seconds, then unlocked the stall door. Reaching back, he ripped down the _Out of Order_ sign and crumpled it up, throwing it into the garbage pail by the door when something caught his eye. A textbook was poking out from behind the large metal can. Bending down slowly with a wince of pain, Hiei picked up the book and laid it on the edge of the sink. Flipping it open, he smirked; _Shuuichi Minamino_ was written in bold letters across the top of the inside cover. Hiei idly traced the name with his fingers.

_No, he's not Shuuichi, .he's Kurama. And what is he so sorry about? _

The nicotine god summoned Hiei once again, its request burning his blood, and he quickly responded as a devout disciple should. Leaving the textbook on the sink, he headed down the hall to his locker wondering just how long he could smoke outside before his hands went numb.

And he repressed the urge to follow Kurama to class just to see if he was OK.

* * *

><p>"<em>OOoOOohhhh<em>, lookie here, it's our little queerbait slut _Hiei_." A gravely voice, dripping with sarcasm and darker intents, sang out behind the small boy and a fist shot over his shoulder, almost grazing his cheek as it slammed his locker shut.

Trying not to jump, Hiei's stomach folded in upon itself as he realized who stood behind him.

_Fuck. FUCK. Not now, not today, not when I can barely walk._

Quickly pocketing his cigarettes Hiei turned, trying to look annoyed and slightly bored; it was in his best interest not to show any fear or weakness in front of Kirinand Shigure. As he turned he noted that the hallway was empty, as they were in the middle of sixth period, and very few classrooms lined the corridor.

Not that he would call for help, but it would be nice if _someone_ saw them dragging away his dead body.

Leaning back against the lockers, Hiei folded his arms and looked at the two in front of him. They were standing too close, invading his personal space, Shigure a few inches behind Kirin. Both were hulking and tall, menacing as they loomed over his tiny frame. In true rivethead fashion they were in black, steeltoe boots laced to the knees, faces and bodies adorned with strategically placed piercings and various pieces of metal. The last time Hiei had seen them was at the beginning of the school year when they were escorted out of the school by State Troopers for kicking the shit out of some sophomore, but they hadn't changed much; in fact, Kirinhad on the same Wumpscut t-shirt and spiked helmet-hat he always wore. Shigure still had his trademark mohawk-ponytail, but he had acquired a few new piercings since September, including an obscenely large hoop in his eyebrow. At this point his face had more silver than skin and when he gave Hiei a grotesque knowing smile, the small boy had to repress a grimace.

Covering his fear and disgust, Hiei sniffed in derision, stating, "Nice piercing, you get that at Home Depot?" Shigure started a little but held back as Kirincracked his knuckles. Hiei considered running, but if he had trouble bending down to pick up Kurama's book there was a very good chance that those two would catch him by the time he reached the end of the corridor. There was no way around it, they were going to beat the crap out of him, for that's how things ran among the three since Hiei and Mukuro had broken up a few years ago.

Mostly Hiei had become notorious in high school because of his appetites, but the springboard for his notoriety came at the hands of Mukuro. It wasn't out of the ordinary for a senior to date a freshman, but it was _very_ unusual for a popular female senior to date a virtually unknown male freshman who, to others, had little to no redeeming qualities besides a pretty face. The two had met in 2001, during the first frigid days of winter, where one had to face the fact that it was only going to get colder from here on out and that summer was now a distant memory. Hiei was alone in front of the school, shivering in a well-worn trenchcoat and wondering how he was going to get home after missing the bus when Mukuro approached him, amusement in her eyes. She offered him a cigarette and a ride, and after a vigorous make-out session in the back of her car they were inseparable for months. He asked her once why she chose him, for Mukuro's popularity was due to strength and power rather than the standard social norms of athletic ability and beauty, and she replied that as soon as she saw him she felt a connection, and once she spoke to him that connection solidified. She claimed to understand him and in all truth she did…to an extent. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to her, she was a striking dark industrial queen of dominance and intensity who exuded authority with every move and the status he received from being her boy-toy left him almost dizzy. Before they met he had heard the endless stories about her, mostly exaggerated but containing hints of the truth, and had seen her in the hallways a few times surrounded by a clan of dangerous-looking followers, Kirin and Shigure among them. Kirin was Mukuro's younger brother and part of the group by birthright; Shigure was his best friend and an avid Mukuro worshipper - it wasn't that he wanted to fuck her, it was more like he wanted to _be_ her, and for the short time that Hiei was part of her entourage he continuously jibbed Shigure about that obsession.

Mukuro was Hiei's first in many ways but like most relationships the spark fizzled to nothing but ashes and smoke within a few months, and Hiei quickly came to the conclusion that they were better friends than lovers. Besides, at that time he was beginning his struggle with depression and he couldn't satisfy his own needs let alone hers. The break-up, which happened shortly after Mukuro graduated, was messy and blame was placed on both sides. Hiei was sure that when he returned to school for his sophomore year that her clan would turn him inside out but without their leader her men sunk to the state of lost and directionless sheep and he only encountered trouble from Kirin and Shigure, who seemed to take the break up as a personal offense. The two enjoyed harassing and tormenting him, and once it was discovered that Hiei preferred the company of men the derogatory insults never stopped. They exchanged fists many times, and Hiei – who learned how to fight alongside Yusuke and Kuwabara – was surprisingly able to hold his own against them; he was fast and packed an unusually strong punch.

But now, frail and broken, he was no match for the two who stood before him…but he wasn't about to let them know that he was scared.

"What the hell are you two losers doing here anyway?" Hiei continued, ignoring the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. "I didn't know that the zoo let you out for day trips." Midway through their sophomore year, Kirin and Shigure had been expelled and sent to the alternative high school; occasionally they slipped through the cracks in the system and were admitted back, but each stay only lasted a few days at a time. Usually they caused too much trouble to remain matriculated and at this point graduation, for them, was a dim hope at best.

Kirin's fist slammed into the lockers again, inches from Hiei's face, and Shigure chuckled as Hiei jumped.

"We felt nostalgic, thought we'd pay this shithole a visit." Shigure's eyebrow hoop bounced against his cheek as he spoke.

"Last time visiting as a man?" Hiei taunted. "They finally schedule that sex change for you? I know you're tired of playing Mukuro in drag, you need the real thing-"

Hiei choked and sputtered as Kirin's hand suddenly wrapped around his neck. His own small hands grabbed the rivethead's meaty fingers trying to pry them off but they didn't budge at all. Beginning to panic as his airway was constricted, Hiei twisted and kicked but Kirinheld tight, staying back far enough so that Hiei's legs didn't connect.

"You know, Kirin," Shigure leaned closer, studying the small boy's desperate wriggling form, taking in the thin frame, the grey complexion, the dark circles under his eyes. "Our _pretty_ little Hiei doesn't really look so pretty anymore." He chuckled, glancing sideways at his partner. "And after we're done with him, he'll be even less pretty."

Taking the statement as a signal to begin, stone-faced Kirin gave an uncharacteristic smirk and began to raise his arm, lifting Hiei by the neck until his toes barely touched the ground. The choking sounds increased in pitch and spittle flew from the small boy's mouth as he gagged and thrashed, trying in vain to free himself. The metal lockers bit into the fresh wounds Karasu had left on his back, his arms felt like they were on fire, and black spots swam in the corners of his vision. His neck strained, trying to support his dangling weight, and every time he kicked out Kirin's grip seemed to become stronger.

Shigure laughed, the high-pitched hollow sound echoing through the hallways, and a few wandering students gathered at the end of the corridor, curious onlookers to the scuffle.

"It seems we have an audience Hiei," Shigure said, moving so that his face was inches from Hiei's own twisted expression. "Let's put on a good show."

Scared and hovering on the edge of consciousness, Hiei still had the presence of mind to fight back the only way he could. Taking in a small gasp of air he spit in Shigure's face and with a broken voice croaked out, "_Fuck you_."

* * *

><p>Kurama raced through the halls, the lockers on either side of him nothing more than an orange blur as he made his way back to the second floor bathroom.<p>

_First I show up late without a pass, and then I don't have my textbook. Good job, Kurama._

It wasn't that he strove to be an exemplary student, he just didn't like to be the center of attention, and having to endure the teacher's lecture on punctuality and preparation while the entire class watched made his already bad day worse. Besides, school was trouble enough - _life_ was trouble enough - without having to put up with shit like that.

Sliding to a halt in front of the bathroom, he swung the door open and charged in. Mr. Ventura gave him exactly five minutes to find his textbook and return to class or he would have detention and the last thing Kurama wanted to do was spend more time at school.

He immediately saw the book perched on the edge of the bathroom sink, as if it were waiting for him, and breathed a sigh of relief. Quickly checking the inside cover to make sure that the book was his, he turned and exited the bathroom, starting back the way he came.

But he stopped short at the end of the hallway as he heard a loud crash and a cry of pain.

_What was that?_ Kurama looked longingly to his left, knowing that he had maybe three minutes, probably less, to get back to class and avoid detention but another crash and a string of muffled gasps and jeers pulled his gaze back to the right. The hallway he currently stood in was the main passageway with dead-end corridors breaking off at various junctures. Craning his neck a bit, Kurama could see a crowd of students gathered at the opening of the next hallway, and by their stance and the sounds they made it was obvious that they were witnessing a fight.

Kurama's legs seemed to work of their own accord, fueled by curiosity and some other unexplained need, something that pulled the redhead toward the scene with furious desperation.

_Something's wrong. _

As Kurama reached the knot of students he found that he couldn't see over their heads so he pushed through, stopping suddenly and dropping his textbook to the floor as he broke through to the front of the crowd.

The first thing he saw was blood, not a lot of blood, but enough to give him pause. There was a sizeable streak across the lockers and red droplets were scattered around the figures in the center of the hallway. Kurama quickly turned his attention toward them - two oversized, over-pierced rivetheads were assaulting a much smaller figure. One of the large boys was doing most of the work while the other held back, laughing and giving instructions. The victim was huddled in front of his assailants, curled into a ball on the floor, and Kurama gasped as he glimpsed the black clothes, the small frame and a shock of white hair.

_Hiei, that's Hiei!_

The fight was still in its early stages, the rivetheads seemed to be toying with Hiei, batting him around a bit before tearing into him, as a cat would with a mouse. Although the violence hadn't escalated Hiei was already injured – blood poured from his nose, dripping down his chin, and it looked like he was struggling to stay conscious; Kurama briefly wondered if the bloodstain on the lockers came from the back of Hiei's head. The small boy was damaged and visibly shaking but as he was grabbed by the collar and lifted from the floor by the larger of the two assailants he remained silent, still managing to deliver a somewhat derisive sneer before his eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp.

Anger flared through Kurama, searing his blood, and he stepped forward, ready to give the two bastards a taste of their own medicine. It wasn't just that they were harassing a friend, it was also their dishonor and cowardice; Hiei was half their size and the fight was obviously one-sided. It was like kicking a sick puppy, and the fact that the crowd just stood by and watched only added fuel to Kurama's raging fire.

The redhead took less than two steps before a cold hand grabbed his arm. It took a moment before he recognized the boy that held him back.

"Touya?" he asked.

"I wouldn't if I were you," the blue-haired boy warned, shaking his head. "Kirin and Shigure are pretty powerful. If you go in there and try to help Hiei, they'll beat you within an inch of your life."

Kurama wrenched his arm out of Touya's grasp with a frown. "I doubt that," he stated, turning away and striding down the hallway, ignoring the murmurs of disbelief coming from the crowd at his back.

The sound of Shigure's voice easily filled the corridor but it wasn't until Kurama stopped a few feet away that he could make out what the spineless freak was saying.

"Unconscious, he's already fucking unconscious." The rivethead sneered at Hiei, the expression forcing a few piercings to bump into each other with a _clink._ "I bet he'd wake up to suck someone's dick though -"

"Then I guess we'll have to look for somebody with one, since you two are obviously lacking." The redhead's voice was soft but menacing and the two hulking boys snapped their heads toward Kurama, who stood his ground gracefully behind them, calm and composed, in what seemed like a casual stance.

"And what do we have here?" Shigure's face went from sneer to grotesque smile in an instant as he folded his arms, eyes roaming Kurama from head to toe. "Prince Charming?" He snickered to himself at the joke then looked pointedly at Kirin, who also chuckled as he swung Hiei's limp body back and forth in his grasp.

Green eyes darted from Shigure to Kirin and back as the crowd and Shigure's hilarity increased in volume. The rivethead shook with laughter as he looked Kurama over once again.

"Actually," he declared, "this one's so pretty, it's like he's _Princess_ Charming."

Suddenly, Shigure turned away from the redhead and with brutal force slapped Hiei across the face. The tiny body jarred but remained limp, and a pink image of the rivethead's hand surfaced on his swollen cheek.

"Wake up queerbait!" Shigure shouted to the unresponsive boy. "Your Princess Charming is here!"

The rivethead hauled his arm back, readying another slap when something strong grabbed his wrist, rendering it immobile. His eyes widened in surprise as the crowd went wild.

"I swear by everything holy that if you touch him again, you won't have an arm any longer." Kurama growled, tightening his grip on Shigure's wrist with surprising force. Tilting his head, he regarded Kirin coldly. "_Let him go_." The tone of his voice left no room for argument.

As Kurama addressed Kirin, Shigure turned and twisted, freeing his arm, and threw a dangerously fast punch at his new foe, but all he encountered was open air and a blast of sound from the crowd. The force of the unmet swing caused the large boy to stumble forward and as he caught himself he looked over his shoulder to find that Kurama was standing nonchalantly behind him, in perfect striking position.

Shigure's mind was reeling; the redhead's grip was surprisingly strong and he was more skilled than their usual opponents. It took some serious fighting knowledge to dodge a punch at that angle that fast and Kurama did so effortlessly; in fact, Shigure barely saw him move.

Touya's voice echoed down the hallway, quickly followed by Jin's and several others' as they cheered Kurama, and Hiei began to stir in Kirin's grasp. The small boy's eyelids fluttered, opening slightly, and he coughed, spitting blood.

Kurama noticed his friend's return to consciousness and his insides flooded with relief: however, that hard determined expression never changed and his voice was thick with the promise of retribution as he addressed Kirin once again. "_I said, let him go._"

The hulking boy remained stalwart, ignoring Kurama entirely.

Shigure swiveled around to face Hiei's rescuer and took a few steps back, pleased that he had finally found a new and interesting challenge. He studied the redhead then moved his gaze to Hiei, whose eyes were now wide and focused on his friend.

"No Kurama," the small boy rasped as he realized just what was happening around him. "Don't do this…" He shook his head, trying to free himself from Kirin's grasp, but he was too battered and weak to do much of anything except flail helplessly.

"Don't worry Hiei," Kurama said, eyes on Shigure. He crouched a bit, sliding one foot behind him for balance, ready to attack or defend at a second's notice. "I'll make sure these losers never bother you again."

Shigure smirked, amused by their interaction. "How touching," he stated, placing his hand over his heart in mock sentimentality. "Hiei, you didn't tell me you had a _boyfriend._"

"Shut up," the small boy retorted, a drop of blood falling from his chin to the floor.

"OooOoohh, so he _isn't_ your boyfriend." Shigure's smirk widened to a vicious grin as he stared directly into the redhead's eyes. Kurama braced himself, glaring back and clenching his fists. He didn't like the turn that this conversation was taking and if certain words were uttered, he couldn't be responsible for his actions.

"Then, what is he?" the rivethead taunted with a lecherous grin. "Your girlfriend? Your bitch? "

A pause.

"Your _fag lover?_"

Those words…it had to be _those_ words…

_Fag lover…_

A simple combination of letters and sounds that surged through Kurama and tore his mind.

_Fag lover…_

The floodgates of memory blew open, and he staggered under the torrent.

_You're going out with your fag lover, aren't you? Answer me! _

The colour drained from his face.

_So, this is your fag lover? Does he scream like a girl while you fuck him? _

A cold sweat broke out across his back; his lungs seemed to stop working.

_All he did, over and over, was cry out for his fag lover…_

Kurama gritted his teeth, almost doubling over, unprepared for the sharp agonizing emotions that rushed through him. The day to day pain he was used to, it was his life, he could manage it to an extent; however, having everything dragged out in front of him – fresh and searing as if no time had passed – was overwhelming. His head spun, his guts twisted, and his legs shook so fiercely that they almost buckled. The hallway in front of him fizzled and disappeared, replaced with soulless beady eyes and the echo of a thick ugly voice that mocked him, reminding him with violent vividness of everything that had happened, everything that was lost.

_Seventeen…_

Lids closed heavily over shocked green eyes, trying to block out the memories, but they came, fierce and relentless, threatening to engulf him, to drown him…

Until he heard the sound of laughter, maniacal laughter.

In reality only Shigure's cackling could be heard echoing across the corridor, for he found the redhead's distress _very_ amusing; however, Kurama's blistered mind layered the sound with a coarse demented laugh from the hellish depths of memory, sending a blazing fire to his core that deepened and compounded until it was swirling inferno of rage. And it was that rage which anchored him, muffling all other emotion, pushing him to the point where something solidified within, something that was cold and steady despite the fury boiling his veins.

Strangely composed, Kurama opened his eyes again. Shigure's face was sharp in his vision while everything else was smeared into a blur; even sounds were altered – the jeers that occasionally sparked from the crowd seemed distant and hollow, as if they were being broadcast over an ancient loudspeaker, yet the simple breaths he took were so loud they practically deafened him. The small part of his mind that was still coherent wailed in fright but that was swallowed along with his conscience as the bitterness of loss took over, unfulfilled vengeance following straight on its heels, the past slowly bleeding into his reality.

Still reveling in the results of his words, Shigure continued laughing, but Hiei gasped. From his dangling view in Kirin's grip, he looked directly at the redhead, and it frightened him.

Kurama was unrecognizable.

That delicate face had turned hard, elfin features coarse with menacing fury, and those eyes; it must be a trick of the light, because they looked almost…

_Gold. _

Then Kurama spoke, and that soft alto was gone, replaced with a colder, deadlier tone that sounded like silk grazing ice.

"What did you say?" The question was asked quietly but Kurama's voice was so lethal, his appearance so violently fascinating, that the crowd's jabbering suddenly ceased. Not one to be easily intimidated - and too cocky to pick up on obvious threats – the rivethead ignored the sudden changes in his foe and repeated himself.

" ." He enunciated every word carefully, milking it for all he was worth. "What. Is. He. Your. Fa-"

Shigure never finished the sentence because he was too busy screaming in pain as Kurama, whose speed had doubled, crushed his kneecap with a well-placed kick. Grabbing his leg with a howl, the large boy buckled frontward toward the floor but was thrown back as Kurama punched him squarely in the jaw, knocking out two of his teeth.

"You will _NEVER_ say those words again," Kurama spat. The vehemence in that glacial voice was overwhelming and the entire hallway lay silent in disbelief. Shigure hit the floor with a wet thump, the impact echoing in the quiet hallway, as the force of Kurama's blow knocked him unconscious.

Trembling with rage, the redhead quickly turned his gaze to Kirin, whose mouth hung open, that rough face slack with shock. In the span of the rivetheads' friendship, no one had ever managed to best them and now that the day had finally come, Kirin was stunned to find that Shigure had been beaten by a thin, effeminate redhead.

It was inconceivable.

He didn't have time to ponder much else though because Kurama approached him, livid and venomous, beyond human, saying one final time, _"Let him go." _

Kirin decided that he liked his knees. Without moving any other muscles he opened his fingers and Hiei dropped to the floor, landing on the hard tile with a cry. Coughing up a bit more blood, the small boy shook his head a few times trying to clear it.

Feral eyes took in Hiei's sorry state and narrowed further, glinting as Kurama growled, suddenly appearing before Kirin.

"Not fast enough," the redhead informed him with a punch to the gut. Kurama's lips curved upward in a devious smile as he felt the crunch of bone and Kirin doubled over, wheezing; however, the larger boy was not too dazed to counter. Grabbing Kurama's wrist, he twisted his arm, trying to snap the delicate bone in his grasp but once again his foe was a blur. All Kirin saw was a swirl of red before a foot hit him across the face and he tumbled back, falling to the floor hard.

With that final kick, Kurama's damn of fury cracked, then burst. and he was swept into mindlessness under the flow, a dangerous mix of emotions rushing through him and pouring out. As Kirin dropped, Kurama followed his descent, lashing out with fists and feet while tears began spilling from those emerald eyes, salty drops landing as frequently as punches, neither ceasing as Kirin jolted under the attack and lost consciousness.

Hiei sat frozen where he had been dropped, watching in shock as Kurama viciously slammed his fists into the rivethead over and over, like he was tenderizing a slab of meat. Insensible words poured from the redhead with each punch, the icy tone gone, replaced with the higher pitch of near hysterics. Kurama was reacting to something in his own mind, an evil from his past.

Hiei recognized that pain, and he could relate.

First in the crowd to break free from the shock, Jin and Touya raced down the hall, reaching Kurama at the same time, each grabbing an arm. The redhead struggled against the initial pull with an insane cry, forcing the two behind him to plant their feet and pull back hard.

"Come on, Kurama, he's already down," Touya said through gritted teeth, amazed at how strong the distraught teen was. Jin seemed to be having just as much trouble and, with a nod between them, the two secured the arm they were holding and leaned back, forcing Kurama up and away from Kirin's body despite the taller boy's resistance.

Once he was dragged a few feet away, Kurama stopped struggling, falling to hands and knees as he was released. Jin and Touya stood there for a few seconds, making sure that they didn't have to latch onto Kurama again, then stepped back when it was obvious that the redhead was going to remain right where he was. At this point, Kurama was so disoriented that he couldn't have moved even if he wanted to; he was bent over, hands curled into fists against the cold floor, long tangled strands of red sticking to his cheeks and hiding his face as he took in ragged gasps of air. His head spun, his nerves were as raw as his throat, and his vision was doubled, tinted red. Anger and regret swelled and roiled within him, creating a pressure so intense that he was sure he would explode, showering the hallway with tiny fragments of his soul.

Then the crimson mantle in his mind lifted, and suddenly all he could see were searing blue eyes - eyes that used to hold his future, eyes that he would only see again in pictures, or in memory.

Grief ran its icy hands over him, reclaiming familiar territory.

_Why? Why did this happen to us? _

He dimly registered that he was still in the hallway being watched by a number of his peers, two of them standing right behind him, but it didn't matter how many people were there for his isolation resurfaced, perpetually on the heels of grief. Within seconds the sharp draining bars of that barren cage slammed down around him, separating him from the rest of the world, and a desolate moan tore through his chest, tears starting to blind him as he stared at the floor through a curtain of hair that only reminded him of blood.

_I-I can't do this anymore, it's too much. _He screwed his eyes shut, feeling wetness on his cheeks. _I wish I was dead. _

"K-Kurama?" A tiny voice called out to him and he snapped his head up, looking directly into Hiei's face. Hiei had made it the few feet to the wall and managed to pull himself into a sitting position, bracing one hand against the floor to remain upright although his locked arm shook with the effort. His normally pale complexion was grey and his nose, lips, and chin were caked with dried blood which had trickled down his neck in fascinating trails, staining his black shirt with even darker patches. Even though it had only been two weeks since Kurama last saw him, it was apparent that Hiei had lost more weight and the circles under his eyes were darker, more menacing than before. He was trembling a bit, breathing hitched, but despite his pitiful condition it was the look on his face that caught Kurama's soul.

Although it had fear around the edges Hiei's expression was one of concern, and it seemed that if he were capable of it he would have crawled to Kurama.

And Kurama surprised himself by wanting that, wanting to be near Hiei. So without a sound, the redhead crossed the distance between them on hands and knees, carefully circling around Kirin under Touya's watch, and stopped a few inches away from his friend.

"Are you OK?" he asked breathlessly, wiping away the evidence of his tears. Somehow, with just a few words and a look, Hiei had brought him back to earth.

A faint smirk was visible through the dried blood. "I was just about to ask you the same question." Shifting a bit Hiei groaned, grimacing in pain, and reached up to touch the back of his head.

Kurama grasped Hiei's hand before it made contact. "Don't do that. You're a mess. We should get you to a hospital."

_"No hospitals."_ Hiei wrenched his arm away.

"But Hiei-"

"Kurama, no hospitals." Hiei looked around them but most of the crowd was still down the hall staring at Kurama's back, unable to see the interaction. Jin and Touya were standing near Shigure, prodding the rivethead with their feet, disbelief on their faces. Returning his gaze to the redhead, Hiei pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the results of Karasu's brutality. Kurama gasped as he saw the purplish-black ring around Hiei's wrist and grabbed the smaller boy's forearm.

"Did you do this to yourself?" he asked.

"In a way." Hiei looked steadily into the redhead's eyes, defiant. Then slowly the expression changed, defiance deflating, replaced by what could be a pleading look but it was hard to tell through all the blood. "Kurama, I can't go to a hospital…they'll find out. _Please._"

There was fear in that final word and Kurama jolted. The doors of memory were still cracked open and the violence of his past made its way to the forefront once again, assaulting him in flashes:

A circular white hallway….

Sunrise through a barred window…

Needles…Hopelessness...Separation…

Looks of patronization and pity from those who hurt under the guise of help…

Bed checks…

Screaming…

A worn-out psychiatrist chewing on his pen…

Sheets hanging from the ceiling in the shape of salvation…

The weary face of his mother.

Hiei watched as Kurama's countenance went blank, slack, and those green eyes emptied. "Kurama?" he prodded, unsure of what to do. It was obvious that Shigure's taunts had set the redhead off, and Hiei didn't know if this episode was an aftereffect, or if he had unknowingly uttered another trigger word. Ironically, even though Hiei's statement had sent Kurama reeling through the past, that simple call of his name had the opposite effect, infiltrating those horrid memories and bringing the redhead back to reality. Without even trying Hiei was able to reach Kurama, calling to him from a place which echoed within them both.

Dragged once again into the present, Kurama blinked a few times then focused on Hiei with grim determination. _"No."_ he said forcefully, the hand on Hiei's forearm tightening. _"No hospitals."_ His teeth were gritted, setting his jaw in a firm frightening line, and his eyes took on that odd gold cast again; however, it didn't scare Hiei - in a way it almost comforted him. Like clockwork, an unusual feeling swept through the battered boy, yet this sensation was not new - just rusty - and although he hadn't felt it for some time, he recognized it for what it was.

Trust.

Hiei smiled a little, twisting his arm in Kurama's grasp so that he could slide it down and take the redhead's hand. "Help me up?" he asked as the crowd at the end of the hall parted and several teachers made their way down the corridor toward the scene.

The determination in Kurama's face faded and he nodded, giving Hiei's hand a squeeze before wrapping his arms around the boy and slowly helping him stand. Hiei's legs wobbled a bit but after a few deep breaths he managed to lock his knees and stay upright. The two clung to each other, Kurama for mental support and Hiei for physical. Unwinding one arm, Kurama pulled the cuff of his sleeve down and began to dab at the blood on Hiei's face. Surprisingly, Hiei allowed it.

"Will you be able to stand on your own? If you collapse, they're going to call an ambulance," Kurama stated in a hushed tone.

Hiei's shoulders rose in what looked like a dim chuckle. "I'm used to pain, just give me a few minutes and I'll be fine."

Kurama was silent. _Sure, you'll be fine, if fine means masochistic and suicidal._ He kept wiping away blood, a chin surfacing under his ministrations. Despite the proclamation of heartiness, Hiei was very wobbly and Kurama was sure that if he simply let go, the boy would fall over. Although he wouldn't admit it if asked, Kurama found himself liking Hiei's touch; once those fragile arms wrapped around him he suddenly felt more stable, as if those thin limbs anchored his sanity.

"Hey," Hiei said quietly, tilting his head up as Kurama worked on the area under his nose, "what happened back there?"

All motion stopped. When Hiei looked down, Kurama was standing there trying to form words, but having serious difficulty.

"I…" the redhead started, mouth opening and closing as he tried to control the myriad feelings balled up inside of him. He had suffered alone for so long that speaking about it to someone else was foreign to him, and even though he wanted to talk to Hiei, to tell Hiei, the walls of solitude clamped down even tighter, reminding him of his fate.

"I…" he bit his lip, unable to continue.

Without thinking Hiei reached forward, brushing the back of his hand against Kurama's face. Those green eyes closed at the touch and Hiei's heart squeezed in his chest. "It's OK," he found himself saying, "you don't have to talk."

Kurama let out a small sigh. _Thank you._

The moment broke as someone next to them pointedly cleared their throat. Hiei dropped his hand and the two turned toward the sound. A teacher that seemed like she couldn't decide between concern, befuddlement, or anger crossed her arms and stated "Both of you, to the nurse. The cops are on their way."

* * *

><p>To Hiei, being in the high school after hours was odd. Empty of chattering students and faculty, the hallways were eerily quiet - almost tomblike - and all that could be heard was the sweeping lull of a janitor's broom. Shadows lingered in different patterns along the walls, reveling in the setting sun, and the classrooms lining the corridor were dark, abandoned for the night. Sure, Hiei had been in detention far too many times to count but he had never stayed at school <em>this<em> late, and as evening crept across the building the entire place became foreboding and somber, almost surreal. Fidgeting on one of the benches outside the main office, Hiei adjusted his aching body and cast a glance to his right, where Kurama sat on an identical bench a few feet away. The redhead was hunched over, arms wrapped around his torso, hair hiding his face, not moving. Hiei frowned; the past three hours had been rough, more on Kurama than on him. Their first challenge was the visit to the school nurse, and even though Kurama was mentally shaken from the fight he still managed to distract the wonderfully incompetent woman so Hiei could sneak into the adjoining bathroom and clean himself up. Using his tried and true methods of hiding injury, as well as a significant amount of paper towels, Hiei left the bathroom actually looking like he hadn't been battered by two rivetheads; he was still a bit wobbly on his feet and had a sizeable bruise on his left cheek, but otherwise appeared healthy enough to avoid a call for an ambulance. Surprisingly, under all that blood his nose wasn't broken but the back of his head still throbbed, making him wonder about a concussion, and when Kurama shot him a look of concern, Hiei knew that the redhead was wondering the same thing.

After being released from the nurse they then spent far too long being questioned by the State Troopers, and if the entire ordeal hadn't been so tedious it would've been downright funny. Even though they thoroughly interviewed Kurama, Hiei, Jin, Touya, and a few other witnesses, the cops just didn't believe that the redhead in front of them had tossed the delinquents such a beating; in fact, it was hard for one of the officers to keep his laughter down. All in all it was decided that the only charges pressed would be against Kirin and Shigure for criminal trespassing – they weren't supposed to be at the school in the first place – and if Hiei chose to he could file assault charges against them as well. Thankfully, Kurama suffered no consequences for his actions; the rivetheads' prior records had the police saying that he acted in self-defense and even though the truth stated otherwise no one wanted to argue with that decision.

Despite the fortune of escaping arrest once the police left Kurama looked even more rickety and although those around them couldn't see it, Hiei watched the cracks appear in that patented Shuuichi mask, spiderwebbing across the redhead's features. Sure, Hiei had taken the physical brunt of the fight but he was used to pain – he adored it; Kurama on the other hand had taken hits not visible to the naked eye and he channeled those injuries very poorly. With every question asked and every moment that ticked by it was obvious that his internal damage was intensifying and by the time they reached Principal Genkai's office the redhead had lapsed into morose silence, no longer meeting Hiei's gaze. Not that it really mattered, whatever mental competency they had left was torn to shreds, for Genkai gave them both such a thorough verbal reaming that by the end of her tirade Hiei was wincing and Kurama had sunk so far within himself that he resembled a haggard mannequin. Once they were done suffering her wrath the two were told to wait outside the office for a parent to come and claim them; Hiei had tried to explain the futility of that requirement, since his mother wasn't even in the country, but as usual his words fell on deaf ears.

Shifting on his bench again, Hiei sighed. It had been almost an hour since they left the principal's office and he was dying for a cigarette.

_I wonder how long I'll be here before they realize that my mother just doesn't care. _

He stole a glance at Vice-Principal Iwamoto, who was monitoring them with a large amount of boredom on his face, then turned toward Kurama. The redhead had slumped low in his seat and his hands were clenched where they clutched his arms, the knuckles white.

Somehow, Hiei found himself worrying about someone. "Hey Kurama," he whispered, leaning over a bit, "are you OK?"

"No talking." Iwamoto barked. Hiei snapped a vicious gaze on the old man and the glare was given back tenfold. Kurama remained unresponsive.

Then a voice cut through the corridor.

"Shuuichi?" A disheveled woman in hospital scrubs brushed past Iwamoto and crouched down in front of Kurama, instantly embracing him. The redhead started at the sudden contact, jolting upright, but after a few seconds he slowly lowered his head to her shoulder, wrapping trembling arms around her.

Hiei blinked, surprised at the woman's sudden appearance and the display of affection that followed. He had seen Kurama's mother before, when Yusuke was spying on them during moving day, but hadn't gotten a closer look at her until now. She was average height, slender but not frail, her dark brown hair cut more for convenience than for fashion. Even though she had to be at least forty her face didn't show any harsh signs of age and her large green eyes had an inherent kindness to them, adding to the benevolent aura that surrounded her; however, the set of her shoulders and the line of her spine warned the casual onlooker that challenging her could be a serious mistake.

Iwamoto coughed, not happy with being ignored. "Mrs. Minamino, I'm going to let Principal Genkai know that you're here," he stated with weak authority, shooting Hiei a warning glance before walking into the office. The boy ignored him, focused on the pair to his right.

Mother and son held the embrace for a moment longer and then Shiori pulled away. Still in a crouch, she rested her hands on Kurama's knees and looked into those troubled eyes. "They called me at work, but I was helping out with a case in ER and didn't get the message until I got back to my office. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

The redhead remained stoic, a small shrug his only reaction. Shiori frowned. "Shuuichi..." she placed a hand on his cheek to make sure she had his attention, "is this something I'm going to be angry about, or is this something I will understand?"

Kurama tried to look away, but her seemingly light touch held him fast.

_"Shuuichi…"_ she pressed with a firmer tone. The school had told her that there was a fight but didn't give any other details aside from the fact that her son was involved. She was greatly relieved to find him physically intact, but his mental state was disturbing, and Shiori just wanted to get through her meeting with the principal and bring him home.

Insistent, she held his gaze even though he tried to avert his eyes. Finally, the boy took a sharp breath and, clenching his fists again, stated in a low voice, "It's something you'll understand."

His tone was icy, yet cracked, as if he was waging a battle against both anger and insanity. Shiori wasn't a fool; she knew that every day was still a struggle for Shuuichi and that despite outward appearances, he suffered far more than he showed her. However this was different; something had happened today - something that hurt her son deeply - and she needed to know what it was if she was going to bring him back.

Tilting her head to the side, Shiori let concern wash across her features. Reaching up, she stroked his hair in comfort, murmuring a sorrow-filled, _"Sweetheart..." _

"Excuse me, Mrs. Minamino," Iwamoto leaned into the hallway, "Principal Genkai will see you now.

The woman glanced up, nodded and stood. Placing her hand on Kurama's shoulder she said gently. "Stay here." Then she turned, contemplating Hiei a moment before following the vice-principal inside.

Hiei sat mesmerized. If _his_ mother had to come to the main office to pick him up from a fight, he would automatically be in the wrong. She would never listen to what he had to say - blame would be placed, the circumstances didn't matter. In her eyes, there was no such thing as the benefit of the doubt.

Or a good son.

_Kurama, your mother is amazing. _

* * *

><p>"OK boys, it's time to go home."<p>

Kurama and Hiei started, both looking up at Shiori at the same time. She smiled warmly, rubbing the back of Kurama's shoulder and encouraging him to stand. He rose to his feet, eyes glued to the dingy floor.

Turning her gaze on Hiei, Shiori gestured for him to stand as well. "You too. I'm taking you both home."

"B-But..." Hiei blinked, confused.

Shiori held her smile, amused at the boy's befuddled look. Although she had never met Hiei, she knew a bit about him; over the past few weeks she had managed to extract _some_ information from her son about his new friends, and Yusuke turned out to be quite the conversationalist once he was fed properly. She was surprised to learn that Hiei lived alone in that condo but didn't judge, her parenting skills were anything but conventional and kids grew up faster and faster these days.

Sometimes, in the wee hours of the morning as Shiori left for work, she would catch a glimpse of Hiei smoking outside on his balcony and it was obvious even from a distance that he resembled Yukina. Once she got a closer look at him though, there were other more obvious things about him besides his likeness to his sister, things that made her chest tight and her blood run cold. Right off the bat the nurse within noted that Hiei was malnourished and far more injured than he was letting on, but those facts dwindled once she observed the hollow pain in his eyes and the dank flat energy surrounding him – the kind of energy she only saw in severely abused children…

Children who've lost all hope.

Shiori knew the risks, but between her assessment of Hiei and the related details of the fight, she told Principal Genkai that she would take responsibility for both boys and bring the two _troublemakers_ home. The surly woman easily agreed – the last thing she wanted to do was wait around with her thumb up her ass for some irresponsible parent to call, and - if left alone for too long - Hiei and Iwamoto would probably end up killing each other.

Gently placing a hand on small boy's back Shiori pushed a bit, finally getting Hiei to stand. "They said they were waiting for your mother to contact them, but Shuuichi told me that she's in London," she explained, trying to assure him with her smile. "Were they going to keep you all night if she didn't call? You've already been here for hours."

Hiei didn't realize that his mouth was hanging open until his jaw hurt. Shiori fumbled through her purse, looking for her keys. "You've both been suspended for three days," she stated, ushering them ahead with a wave of her hand, Kurama silently took the lead, Hiei following after a brief pause. "Even though you were in the right, it seems that the administration would rather set itself on fire than think outside the box, so enjoy your vacation."

Hiei snorted. _I guess Kurama gets his sarcasm from his mother. _

Due to Kurama's mental state and Hiei's taciturn nature, not much was said in the car on the ride home. Hiei was torn between fortune and fear; it was an amazing twist of fate that Kurama's mother would help him out, but he wondered what her motives were. He had yet to meet an adult that he trusted, or respected, and although the woman seemed genuinely sweet, he knew that she wouldn't let him go without a few questions. Kurama was lost within his own mind as well. He had barely managed to survive the last few hours - the rush of memory he felt during the fight coupled with the stress of the day proved to be too much and he lapsed into nothingness, retreating deep within himself until he felt able to communicate again. Shiori maintained the silence, allowing the boys some time to breathe and regroup during the short trip home; however, once they pulled into the garage the reprieve was over.

"Shuuichi," Shiori began carefully, taking the keys out of the ignition, "what did they say to you to make you this upset?" Normally she would wait until they were alone to question her son, but she had a feeling he wasn't going to answer her and Hiei might be willing to fill in the blanks.

Kurama maintained his silence, staring out the passenger-side window even though the only scenery was the garage wall.

Shiori sighed.

"They said he was my fag lover." Hiei stated flatly, still a bit confused at the turn of events. Shiori's eyes widened as if she'd been struck. Kurama twitched, his body tightening, then without acknowledging either of them, he exited the car and walked into the house.

Hiei reached for the door handle, unsure of what to say, but Shiori made the first move. "Come inside Hiei."

The small boy froze. The residual effects of the beating were beginning to wear off and all he wanted to do was lie down in his bedroom and chain smoke until he was another day closer to death; besides, Kurama didn't look like he wanted company right now.

The only problem was that Shiori was invoking a tone that squashed any argument. "I'm a nurse, and you don't look well," she continued. "I want to make sure you don't have a concussion or internal injuries."

"I'm fine," Hiei protested.

Shiori smiled knowingly. "Then you'll have no problem with me verifying that." Getting out of the car, she opened Hiei's door and stood next to it. He must have looked like he was about to bolt because she put a hand on his arm, stating gently, "I promise, I won't hurt you."

Hiei almost laughed. _If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that…_

* * *

><p>Kurama's place was much warmer than Hiei's. Even though all the condos were structured the same, the Minamino residence had a bright airy energy and a welcoming feel that chipped away at Hiei's defenses and almost made him not want to go back to his dismal dwelling.<p>

_Almost._

Over the last few weeks a significant amount of unpacking had been done and Kurama's condo was slowly transforming from house to home. The walls had been painted in tasteful shades of taupe and lilac, patterned curtains accenting the muted colours, while large leafy plants stood like gentle sentinels in the corners of rooms, giving the space more lift, more life. A few unopened boxes were nestled against the living room wall, mostly full of family portraits and smaller knickknacks, and although a few photos had made their way onto the walls it was obvious that Shiori was still in the process of decorating.

One photo in particular caught Hiei's eye right away and he strolled across the living room to study it more closely. Shiori took that as an opening and excused herself to check on her son. When she returned a moment later Hiei was still staring at the picture with intense interest and as she came up behind him he pointed at it, asking with wide eyes. "Is this Kurama?"

A striking boy with silver hair and golden eyes stared out at them from the confines of the frame. He was draped in diaphanous white clothing, the ambient light surrounding him in a way that made him look ethereal, like he was a spirit sent from another world. He was leaning against a tree, head tilted to the side, a calculatingly confident look on his face, his stance indicating that if he didn't already own the world, it was only a matter of time.

Shiori chuckled, her expression soaked with nostalgia. "Yes," she replied, reaching out to brush the picture with her fingertips, "that's my Shuuichi. He was quite the showman, wasn't he?"

Hiei didn't answer. Everything about the boy in that picture was so different from the solemn redhead he knew now that he was struck dumb with curiosity and shock.

"Hiei." Shiori once again placed a hand on the small boy's arm, making her intent known. Usually Hiei would jump at the physical contact and brush it away but there was something about Kurama's mother that made him compliant. Maybe it was because she was genuine, maybe it was because her aura made him feel slightly safe, or maybe it was because – for a few moments – he wanted to know what it was like to have a mother who cared about him, but he would never admit any of those things, even to himself. It had been an overwhelming day and the emotion and injury combined had left Hiei wanting to go home and bleed until he couldn't feel anything anymore; however, he couldn't do that just yet; he needed to be sharp and find a way out of this examination. Shiori wasn't stupid, once she took a good look she would certainly find something to alarm her – he was covered in bruises and lacerations that were obviously not from the fight and a trained eye such as hers would pick up on that immediately. Glancing around, Hiei looked for his friend, but the redhead had gone upstairs as soon as he entered the condo.

_Shit. Kurama, I could really use you right about now. _

Mind reeling, Hiei allowed himself to be guided to the couch. Settling on the edge of a soft cushion, he watched as Shiori opened the hall closet, pulled out a black medical bag, and took a seat on the coffee table directly in front of him, setting the bag at her feet. Reaching out, she took both of his hands in hers, softly running her thumbs over the back of them in a gesture of comfort.

"Are your hands always this cold?" she asked nonchalantly.

Hiei shrugged. "I guess so, I've never noticed."

Giving his hands a squeeze, she released one and went to pull up the sleeve of his shirt, aiming to check his pulse, when Hiei started and pulled away. Shiori's eyes widened a little but her gentle smile didn't falter. "Is something wrong Hiei?" When children were as bad off as this boy it was best to take things slowly and carefully.

Hiei crossed his arms, tucking his hands around his body. Looking down, he tried to form some kind of excuse but fell into silence. Usually when he didn't want to deal with someone a derogatory or surly remark would give him the peace he needed; however, this was a different situation and he couldn't use his standard techniques on Shiori – in all truth, he didn't want to be rude to her. Even though she was invading his space she was too nice, and Hiei cursed both mother and son for causing him to break the programming he'd come to rely on.

Reaching out again, Shiori brushed her hand against the small boy's cheek and he looked up, vulnerability flashing across his features before indifference took hold. Normally she wouldn't have done that, but there was something about Hiei that called out to her, something that was more than the maternal urge that fueled her career.

The masked expression, the hidden pain, the withering body…

_He's just like Shuuichi…_

"Mother."

Both Hiei and Shiori jumped as Kurama's voice carried through the room. The redhead was standing in the doorway by the stairs, a cloudy sort of grimness on his face, but he seemed to have come back to reality for the time being. Hiei heaved a sigh of relief.

_Come on Kurama; get me out of this. _

Shiori stood. "Feeling better sweetheart?" Walking over to her son, she rubbed his arm then gave him a quick embrace. He weakly returned the hug.

"A little." Looking over her shoulder he glanced at Hiei. The boy returned his gaze and Kurama didn't miss the desperation in those brown eyes.

Pulling back, he gave his mother a pleading look. "Can we talk in the kitchen…_now_?"

"Sure Shuuichi," she replied without hesitation. Giving Hiei a quick smile that had _stay right there_ written across it, she followed her son into the next room.

"Mother," Kurama began as soon as the were in the doorway.

"There's something wrong with him." Shiori interrupted crossing her arms, the easy smile gone.

Kurama sighed; he was not going to get out of this without some maneuvering, and his sanity was already frayed. "Hiei's had some bad experiences. Please, don't push him."

"Honey, he's far too thin and someone's hurting him. I can tell."

_No,_ someone's _not hurting him…he's hurting himself._ "Mother, you can't help everyone."

"So you admit that he's being abused?" she pressed, not wanting to do so while her son was still so shaken but needing to find answers.

Kurama gritted his teeth. He hated doing so, but he was being forced to lie to her. This wasn't going to go away until she was satisfied and he wasn't about to tell her the truth. These last two years had been so lonely, so agonizing, that he didn't want to throw away the first real connection he'd made and, more than anyone, he understood what would happen if Hiei's suffering were exposed. It was a fate he relived every day.

_Those places, they're just another layer of Hell._

Kurama looked at the floor, the kitchen table, the sink, anywhere but into his mother's eyes. "It was a boyfriend," he stated, his stomach twisting along with his words. "An ex-boyfriend...and the situation has been resolved."

Shiori didn't like that answer. "What do you mean _resolved?_"

He sighed again. "A few of Hiei's friends took care of him and it's no longer an issue. Can we please drop this? Just…will you see if he has a concussion but nothing more? He's barely making it day-to-day right now and I don't want him to crack."

She frowned, lines creasing her forehead, something about the story wasn't right. "Shuuichi-"

"_Please._" Kurama put his head in his hands and began to tremble, unable to go further. As soon as he got into the house he raced upstairs and purged himself again and again until the memories faded, so now he was shaky and weak. This conversation was taking everything he had left and the lie was leaving him sick again. Sure he hid things from her, but he loathed lying to her face and the last thing he needed was more guilt.

Soft fingers wrapped around his wrists and gently pulled his hands away. "Of all the things they had to say to you," she murmured with sorrow, "it had to be that. I'm sorry Shuuichi."

He found his voice again. "Don't be sorry, it's not you fault." He slid his hands so that he could entwine his fingers in hers. "Can we just forget it for now?"

She squeezed his hands. "I want you to come to me the minute you need to talk about it." It was a futile request, for her son – as always - would suffer in silence, but she made it just the same.

He nodded, then asked in a small voice, "What about Hiei?"

Shiori let go of her son's hands, running one of her own through her short locks. "I think he needs a thorough examination but I'll just make sure he isn't going to die in the next forty-eight hours. Good enough?"

"Yes." Kurama tried to smile, but it came out as a bleak attempt at nothing.

"However," she continued, wrapping an arm around the redhead's shoulders as they made their way toward the living room, "if he still looks this bad the next time I see him I won't be able to hold back. He needs someone to look after him and I don't like the fact that he's suffering alone in that place."

Kurama didn't respond. _Then I guess this will be the last time you see him._

* * *

><p>Shiori kept her word. First, she checked Hiei's nose and the back of his head, then timed his pulse through the sleeve of his shirt. Of course, she made mental notes about his dilated pupils, his staggered breathing, and his weight, but she kept those observations to herself. It turned out that while Hiei's nose wasn't broken, the cartilage at the tip had been shattered; however, that type of injury would mend on its own. The blow to his head was a different story. Hiei showed no signs of a concussion but she really couldn't be sure without breeching the small boy's personal space and her son's trust. At least Hiei allowed her to check the injury and apply an icepack to the swelling before he reached his limit.<p>

Then the hospital called. Unfortunately, the case she'd been dealing with earlier that day had taken a turn for the worse and there was no one else with the experience or the expertise to handle it. She was hesitant to leave since there were two troubled boys in her living room, but it was a new job – one she loved and wanted to keep – and she felt it was her duty to finish what she'd started. Kurama encouraged her to go, stating over and over in a mildly shaky voice that he was fine; however, Shiori had a few terms that needed to be agreed to before she'd leave them to themselves.

The first condition was that Hiei stay with Kurama – basically, she was uncertain of the extent of the boy's injuries and if he vomited, or became disoriented or dizzy, then redhead would be there to call for help. Also, she was worried about her son brooding alone, especially after the day's events, and felt that the company of a friend might do him some good. The second condition was that they both eat. Kurama had lost some weight over the last few weeks and she was pretty sure that most of her homemade lunches were going directly into Yusuke's stomach; besides, Hiei looked like he hadn't had a proper meal in quite some time. Once she stated her demands the two looked at each other for a moment and she could almost feel their silent communication. Then, Kurama nodded with a slight smile, Hiei nodding as well although he still had bewilderment in his eyes.

"I'll leave my cell phone on until I get to the ER and then you can reach me by calling the nurse's station and they'll transfer you –"

"Mother, we'll be fine," the redhead stated, helping his mother into her coat by the front door. Hiei was still on the couch, holding an icepack against his head with one hand and flipping through a photo album with the other.

Shiori gave her son a dubious look. "Are you sure?"

Kurama rolled his eyes. "I haven't changed my mind the last five times you've asked, so the answer is still yes. We'll. Be. Fine."

She hugged him, almost too tightly. "You know that I love you, right?"

He winced, more from the guilt of his lie rather than the strength of her embrace. "Yes, I do."

She pulled away, adjusting the purse on her shoulder, and reached up to smooth his hair. "You're a good person, I want you to know that. What you did today was a good thing, don't let anyone else tell you otherwise."

Despite the sorrow of Kurama's existence, it comforted him to know that someone was on his side. His mother was one of a kind, a pure soul whom he truly loved, and a constant affirmation of just why he stayed behind.

_At least I have her, Hiei has nothing._ Kurama glanced into the living room, studying his friend, and the rush of emotion was palpable. Suddenly he found himself wanting to protect Hiei, to know Hiei, to discover why he was so sad and who had made him that way. In response to his urges, warning bells rang through Kurama's head, reminding him of his promises, his past, and that he was only setting himself up for more sorrow. He should avoid getting so close to someone who was terminal, for that's what Hiei was – terminal, and if one looked it was easy to see death's shadow lying coldly across the boy's thin shoulders, whispering promises of peace and salvation.

However, even knowing that he was embarking on a dangerous friendship that could only end one way – _badly_ – Kurama was once again unable to turn away from Hiei. For some reason, for many reasons, they were linked, and although Kurama had no intentions of saving his friend, he wanted to lean on their connection for just a little while. Hiei may only have months but Kurama had years and it would be nice if he had someone to relate to, someone he didn't have to wear the mask for, someone who had the opportunity and ability to make it out. For if Kurama couldn't leave then he might as well help someone who could, and live vicariously through them as he did.

_No, Hiei no longer has nothing. Now he has me._

After reassuring his mother several more times and swearing to her and any gods listening that they would eat, she finally left and Kurama found himself leaning his forehead on the front door as it closed behind her, trying to even out before he went back to his friend.

"So, she's gone?"

Kurama whirled around to find Hiei standing about a foot away. "Yes," he replied breathlessly, shocked to find his friend so close. "Probably for the night." He tilted his head, spilling crimson over one shoulder. "You know, you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

_But, I hope you do._

Hiei didn't reply. His silence didn't make Kurama uneasy; however, the riveting stare he fixed him with did. Those brown eyes locked on Kurama's chest with fascination and when he followed Hiei's gaze, Kurama realized that the small boy was staring at his hair.

"So, that's what's left, huh?" Reaching out, Hiei fingered the silver at the bottom of those long tresses.

"Left of what?" Kurama couldn't take his eyes off Hiei's fingers as they rubbed the strands of hair, sampling the texture.

"This." Hiei held up the picture he'd asked Shiori about.

Pain lanced Kurama's lungs as he gazed at his former self, but he did his best to hide it; Hiei's eyes flicked up to Kurama, noting the struggle, then drifted back to the softness between his fingers.

"I like the red better," he stated, dropping the strands. "The eyes…they're contacts, right?"

Kurama nodded dumbly, frozen by the door, then reached through a choked throat for his voice. "I…I had a lot of colours, but I liked the gold ones best." Actually, it wasn't so bad talking to Hiei. Although he was a little intense, the boy asked questions he didn't mind answering.

"So…what were you, a club kid or something?" Hiei turned, walking back into the living room to place the photo back on the wall. Kurama followed.

"Yes, I was." When Hiei's eyebrows rose and his expression showed mild interest, Kurama felt the need to continue. "Twilo, The Pyramid, Batcave, Avalon, Flamingo East, Club Four…I was on every guest list, I knew everyone. I danced all night, every night for three years." He smiled to himself. "For awhile I saw more sunrises than sunsets. I didn't experience the New York nightlife; I _was_ the New York nightlife." His eyes, which were distant with pleasant memory, moved from the floor to Hiei's face. "It was wonderful."

Flashes of power, sparks of a cocky long-lost personality peppered the redhead's words, and Hiei realized that the silver boy from that photo was still inside Kurama somewhere, smothered by layers of sorrow.

Hiei knew better than to ask what had happened, or why everything had changed, instead he asked: "How did you get away with that?" Kurama was young in that picture – fifteen at most - and looked like he had been living the club life for quite some time. It's pretty hard to maintain that kind of existence at an age where your parents watch your every move and a late night out is seeing the nine o-clock movie.

Leaning on the back of the couch, Kurama gave Hiei a small but wry smile. "Mother worked the night shift and I stayed at a lot of _friend's houses_." Sarcasm dripped off the last two words and he coughed to accentuate the deception. "She knew I went out dancing, but thought it was reserved for the weekends. She's always trusted me and she never asked, so I never told her."

"She didn't mind the way you looked?" Hiei blinked. When his mother was around he was constantly getting shit about his appearance, which amused him to no end since she never said anything to Yukina and his sister was the one with the green hair.

Kurama grinned. "Mother's seen it all. She had a pink mohawk when she met my Dad so when I dyed my hair silver she thought it was _charming. _"

"Wow." Hiei shook his head a few times in disbelief and then glanced around a bit. "So…where _is_ your Dad?"

"Dead," Kurama replied matter-of-factly. "Aneurysm. He died when I was five."

Hiei snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Weird. _My_ dad died when I was five."

_See, we are connected in so many ways…_

Kurama's limbs turned to ice and he did his best to block out the ruby pendant that swung through his memory.

Ignoring the redhead's stricken expression – for it was masked as quickly as it surfaced - Hiei began to fish through his coat. Pulling out a fresh pack of cigarettes, he tapped them against his palm several times, then unwrapped the plastic without even looking down. The action helped Kurama focus and he frowned, about to inform Hiei that he couldn't smoke in the house when the small boy asked, "Come outside with me? I need about five of these right now."

"You want to use the balcony?" Kurama asked in return. At Hiei's nod, the redhead grabbed his coat and the two headed upstairs. Although he tried to hold himself steady, Hiei was staggering a bit and he banged into the doorframe as they stepped outside.

"You're still in bad shape," the redhead remarked, putting on his gloves and wrapping his coat tightly around himself. The cold day had sunk into an even colder night and their breath could be seen in small cloudy puffs.

Hiei lit his cigarette with a shrug, giving Kurama a flash of purpled wrist. "I'll be fine in a few hours. This body seems to heal fast no matter what I do to it." Closing his eyes he took a deep drag, the hint of a smile playing along his pale lips. Hiei had few comforts in this world and if pain or pleasure weren't available nicotine was a worthy substitute. He held the smoke for as long as he could, welcoming the familiar burning rush, and then exhaled through his nose, smoke pouring from his nostrils as if he were a tiny black dragon.

Opening his eyes again, Hiei found that Kurama had moved closer, that verdant gaze locked on his sadistic bracelet. A long-fingered hand reached out and grabbed the small boy's forearm, pulling back the sleeve to fully expose the bruising.

"Did you get this from Karasu?" the redhead asked, his expression and tone neutral but barely so.

"Yeah." Placing the cigarette in his mouth so he could show Kurama the matching mark on his other wrist, Hiei stated, "If you think this is bad, you should see my back." There was a disturbing level of pride in his words,

Green eyes narrowed slightly, locking on Hiei's face as innocent concern broke through that careful façade. "This…helps you?"

Hiei snorted, "Nothing really _helps_, Kurama." The grip on his arm went slack and he freed the limb, pulling his sleeve back down and flicking ash over the balcony in a nervous gesture. He had never encountered anything like this before; somehow, Kurama's eyes seemed to rip through his defenses - there was understanding in those emerald depths and not a trace of pity. He could choose to look away, to try and ignore it, but both of those options became useless as that strange exposed feeling swept through him once again, rearing its head and roaring so loudly that he could feel it echo in his bones.

"It's just…" he realized that he couldn't wall the redhead out and sighed, finding it difficult to voice the pain he'd been hiding for so long. "It's endurance, nothing more."

Kurama winced, he was too well-acquainted with the concept of endurance, and the sickening limits it pushed you to. "So," he stated softly, concern still lining his forehead "It's getting worse."

"Yeah…that's what it does."

"How long do you have?" Kurama knew the answer - it had been whispered in the confines of the music room – but he wanted to hear it again, wanted to be sure.

Hiei pursed his lips; he had said too much already and Kurama was making him uneasy. How could the redhead read him so well? Was the mask that faulty? If it was, how long would it be before the others caught on to his plans?

_Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I've done a lot worse to purge myself of my own pain._

No. He could trust Kurama, _especially_ after what had happened today, and it wasn't that the mask was faulty - it was that they wore the same one, carried the same burden. It's easy to recognize pain when your own life is soaked in it.

Flooded with an odd sense of security, Hiei took a drag and confessed. "Two months." he stated dimly, blowing out smoke. "Give or take."

"You're not sure?" Kurama blinked.

"I'm waiting for something." He flicked his cigarette again, then contemplated the redhead in front of him. He had just revealed quite a bit of personal information and Kurama needed to take a turn before he'd say anything else. "Well," he prodded in a low voice, "What about you?"

"Me?" Kurama's eyes were round.

"How long do _you_ have?" Hiei tossed the cigarette off the balcony, not giving a shit where it landed, and pinned the taller boy with one of his intense stares.

Kurama was silent for a moment. The bony hands of isolation wrapped around his neck, squeezing, and it took an enormous amount of will to resist it, but after a few steadying breaths he whispered, "Too long." His lips were white. "Much too long."

Hiei didn't know how to respond. He wasn't used to this kind of conversation – or _any_ conversation, really - and the protective urge he felt earlier that day suddenly resurfaced, disturbing him almost as much as Kurama's haunted eyes. Acting on intuition Hiei took a step forward, somehow knowing that if he moved closer the redhead would be comforted. "You know," he ventured cautiously, unused to offering solace or solutions, "if it's that bad you could always try again."

Kurama quickly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away, not wanting to show Hiei any more tears. This was rough; he actually wanted to answer Hiei's questions, strengthen the tremulous bond they'd created, but after today's hellish episode he was still feeling raw and overly sensitive. "I can't," he eventually forced out, willing himself to share _something_ with the boy beside him. "I've made promises." He wrapped his arms around his torso, clinging to himself.

Another step. Hiei was close enough to touch Kurama, but he was unsure and the redhead was trembling. Deciding to bridge the distance with words, he asked softly. "Promises to your mother?" Craning his neck a bit, he tried to catch Kurama's expression but as soon as he leaned forward the world became dim…and started to tilt.

Hiei braced himself on the balcony's metal railing. _Shit, maybe I do have a concussion, or maybe I should've eaten something more than a bowl of cereal in the last two days._

The tilting evolved into spinning and - realizing that the longer he stood upright, the greater his chances were of toppling over - Hiei sat down _hard_ on the stone floor, ignoring how the cold immediately soaked through his pants and into his bones. Shaking his head back and forth to clear it, he pulled out another cigarette, almost missing Kurama's soft reply.

"Yes."

The redhead still had his back to him, and those slender shoulders were rigid and tense. Kurama had given, made admissions despite the distress, and Hiei was satisfied – albeit curious – with what had been shared. The boy didn't want to push anymore, not when the world kept lurching sideways every few seconds, so he decided to steer them into softer territory. "Your mother," Hiei said, his face awash in harsh yellows as he lit his second cigarette, "she's really nice."

Just as in the aftermath of the fight, a few simple words from Hiei helped Kurama surface and he took in a shuddering gasp of air, quickly wiping his face and sitting down next to his new friend – far enough away to have his own space, but close enough to allow their bond to show.

"She's wonderful," he replied, tilting his head back so it rested against the railing. Then, as an afterthought he added, "I've put her through too much."

Hiei frowned and took a very deep drag. That last statement, coupled with the scar he'd seen and the reactions he'd witnessed lead him to one conclusion.

"You've been there," he stated, slowly turning toward the redhead. "You've been in one of _those_ places."

_So much for trying to keep it light. _

Kurama closed his eyes. "Yes." He ground his lips together until they went white again. "It was horrible."

Hiei was slowly returning to a world which didn't heave and spin, so he leaned to the side a bit, shuffling closer to Kurama, and reached out, laying a hand on the redhead's arm. Tight lips quirked a bit at the touch and green eyes opened to lock tightly with brown.

"How long were you in there?" Hiei asked, keeping Kurama afloat with his gaze.

The redhead sighed. "Ten months." Hiei raised an eyebrow in surprise and Kurama's lips curved into a humourless smirk. "I wasn't the most…_compliant_ of patients."

Hiei sniffed, fingers absently stroking the sleeve of Kurama's coat. "Well, with the way you fight, I'm surprised they could hold you at all. How did you learn to move like that?"

Kurama's smirk leaned toward genuine. For some reason, Hiei was able to put him at ease. "I grew up in, shall we say, a less than prosperous neighborhood," he explained.

"Harlem?" Hiei asked.

"The edge of it."

Brown eyes went unnaturally wide. "That was all _street_ fighting?"

The redhead chuckled. "Yes, street fighting and dirty tricks. Looking the way I did it was either learn how to fight or learn how to channel pain. People don't take kindly to those who are different." He stopped, and his eyes darkened. "Speaking of which…who _were_ those thugs that attacked you?"

"Friends of my ex," Hiei muttered.

"Well I don't think that they'll be bothering you anymore."

The small hand resting on Kurama's arm tightened. "I thought you were going to get yourself killed." Hiei was confused again; what was this concern?

"So did everyone else," Kurama murmured, his whole being centered on the grip that Hiei had on his arm. Silence wound over and through them and they sat together like that for a few moments, Hiei finishing his cigarette and adding its corpse to the ground below while Kurama watched in fascination. Finally, the redhead cleared his throat, breaking the quiet with a soft, "Listen…I'm sorry I ran away from you that night. I just-"

Hiei took his hand from Kurama's arm and held it up. "Don't. After what happened today you have nothing to apologize for."

That seemed to appease Kurama and he gave the boy beside him a soft smile, then stood and held out his hand. "If you're done," he said, noticing that Hiei hadn't lit a third cigarette, "we can go back inside; I'll make us something to eat." Kurama's appetite was nil on a good day and right now his stomach felt like it was full of sharp objects, but a promise was a promise and he would choke down a few mouthfuls of something so that he could keep his word to his mother.

Despite his earlier dizziness Hiei couldn't care less about food, but he did care about the hand that was extended to him and the cold eating its way to his core. So he nodded and clasped Kurama's hand, levering himself up. Unfortunately, though he had managed to keep the world in balance while sitting down, as soon as he stood his control slipped away and he staggered, his legs turning to rubber and his vision edging black, the world tilting again and sending him with it. He was sure the next thing he'd feel was the balcony floor slamming into his face; however, something sturdy yet surprisingly soft wrapped around him, holding him up as his knees buckled. Warmth and the scent of roses enveloped him and he unconsciously snuggled into the embrace, his name drifting to him through the vertigo.

"Hiei."

He was floating, lighter than air, and he wanted to stay like this, just like this…comfortable…perfect.

_"Hiei." _

Just as quickly as it bent, reality realigned and Hiei blinked, looking up into scared green eyes. Kurama's eyes.

"Hiei?"

_W-what?_ The small boy shook his head a few times then glanced down. Kurama's long limbs were around him, keeping him upright, and he was pressed against the redhead's chest. Obviously, he had blacked out and Kurama was quick enough to catch him. That scent still surrounded him, and the innocent heat radiating off the redhead's body spiraled Hiei into full consciousness as lust pumped wildly through his blood. "Kurama?" His voice was a husky whisper.

The redhead saw those brown eyes darken but didn't pull away. Hiei was in his arms and….and he liked it; that thin frame molded so well against his own, as if it were made for him, and holding the boy made him feel more solid, as if he were instantly rooted to the world instead of being a ghost that haunted it. Briefly, he wondered how much more intense his feelings would be if the barrier of their clothing were stripped away and guilt tore a hole straight through him, always there, always reminding him.

_Where you go, I go, in this life and all the rest._

Kurama held back a grimace. This was wrong, he shouldn't get involved with this boy…

But one look into Hiei's eyes silenced those querulous thoughts, stifled the guilt. Of course Kurama remembered his past, but it seemed distant within that strange gaze. Why Hiei? Why did this doomed boy with the insolent aura captivate him so?

They stood there together for what seemed like hours, staring into each other, flooded with feeling until Kurama cleared his throat, stating, "We should go inside. You really need to eat." His voice was strained.

"Do you think we could go back to my place?" Hiei shifted a bit in Kurama's arms, tugging at his shirt, and dried blood flaked off the collar. "I'd like to change." Even though Kurama's home was warm and welcoming, Hiei wanted a non-bloodstained shirt, a chance to smoke indoors and a _good_ cup of coffee.

Strangely enough, he wanted Kurama's company as well.

Removing one arm, but adjusting the other so it was wrapped around Hiei's waist, Kurama secured the boy. "OK," he agreed, guiding them back into the house. Dizziness was a sure sign of concussion and Shiori _should_ be called, but that really wasn't an option right now; instead, Kurama vowed to himself that he would watch Hiei throughout the night and if there were any other symptoms he'd phone the hospital immediately. "Mother always leaves a few meals in the fridge; let me grab something for us to eat and we can head over to your place."

"Sure," Hiei murmured absently, allowing himself to be lead downstairs. He had no idea why but he didn't make a move on the redhead; he was overwhelmed just by the comfort of being held. Glancing down, he studied the hand resting on his hip, felt the line of that arm across his back, sensed the heat of Kurama's body, inhaled the scent of roses. The redhead was intoxicating, and _right here._ Really, he should try _something…_

_Shit, I'm becoming a nun._

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later Hiei was at the front door of his condo, fiddling with his keys while Kurama kept an arm around his waist. He hadn't passed out again but Kurama was wary and his touch wasn't unwelcome, so they remained that way until Hiei found the right key and pushed the door open. The first thing that hit them was the overwhelming stench of old cigarette smoke, the second thing was the flashing beacon-like light of the answering machine.<p>

"You have messages," Kurama stated, stepping into the foyer and away from Hiei as the boy dumped his coat on the floor.

"Hn. You're amazingly observant." Hiei's reply was dripping with sarcasm, and he stood in front of the phone, glaring at it, trying to set it on fire with his gaze.

Satisfied that his friend wasn't going to black out again, Kurama made his way to the kitchen and placed a Tupperware bowl of pasta into a microwave that, upon closer inspection, looked like it had never been used. Kurama glanced around, craning his neck to see further into the condo. Actually, _all_ of the rooms felt uninhabited, abandoned. Everything was in its place and the space was surprisingly clean but the air was stale and it seemed as if the furniture around him was waiting for something, just as Hiei was. There was no indication that a teenage boy lived alone here, there was no indication that anyone lived here.

It was almost as if Hiei were already dead.

_*BEEP*_ Kurama jumped as Yukina's voice carried through the apartment.

_"Hiei, it's me. Are you OK? Pleeeease call me as soon as you get this message. Touya told me what happened this afternoon and I'm really worried about you. Please Hiei call me back, either on my cell or at Kazuma's….love you!" _

"She's very sweet," Kurama said, walking back into the foyer.

"Yeah," Hiei murmured, the hand at his side clenching into a fist. _She doesn't deserve to have me as a brother. _

*BEEP* They both jumped this time as Yusuke's voice rang out, bold, brassy, and more than a little pissed off. _"GodDAMMIT Hiei! Jin just told me what happened. I'm in the city right now with Keiko filling out stuff for college, but I'm coming over first thing tomorrow morning and you better open that door or I'm gonna break it down. I'm tired of this game. We need to talk. I'm serious Hiei." _

"Great." The small boy frowned, turning away from the phone, and walked upstairs to his bedroom, Kurama on his heels. This was the last thing he needed – well, the last thing he needed was a call from his mother - but Yusuke threatening to barge in was a close second. What did he expect though? No matter how their lives changed, no matter how the people around them changed, Yusuke was consistently Yusuke: tenacious, stubborn, willful, the kind of guy that would never give up on a friend. It was a miracle that Hiei had managed to avoid him for this long.

"You're going to have to face him eventually," Kurama echoed, leaning on the doorframe and watching as Hiei selected a black t-shirt from the floor, sniffed it, then deemed it acceptable to wear. To Kurama it was obvious that the bedroom was the only room Hiei used: clothes were strewn everywhere, coffee cups littered the dresser, the bed seemed like it hadn't been made in weeks and cartons of cigarettes – both full and empty – were forming a weird cardboard castle in the corner. The walls were bare, which was a bit unusual, but at least it looked like someone _lived_ here.

Hiei acknowledged Kurama's statement with a scowl then turned away, stripping off layer upon layer of shirts. As he slipped the last one over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up, Kurama cringed. Whip marks, black bruises and scars decorated the boy's back in a dementedly fascinating pattern, the vividness of the colors and the depth of the scars heightened by the soft white patches of skin underneath. Hiei's right forearm and left shoulder were bandaged, lacerations peering out from under the gauze, his neck bore the red image of a dog collar, and now that Kurama could see Hiei's wrists under the light, the bruising was frightening. That much damage meant that even slight movement was excruciating, but Hiei seemed to accept and revel in it, kicking off his shoes and donning a new shirt without even wincing. After a moment's hesitation, he grabbed a black hooded sweatshirt from the floor as well and pulled that on, but it was too big for his thinning frame and he practically swam in it. Adjusting the shirt, he turned back to Kurama and the expectant look on the redhead's face made him sigh.

"Yusuke won't give in, I know that." Hiei sat on the bed, displacing a few socks and an empty pack of cigarettes. "But he wants me to tell him what's going on and…and I can't." He shifted his gaze to the floor, but really didn't look at anything.

"You know…" Kurama replied softly, "when this is over, he's going to blame himself. He's that type of guy."

"What can he do? He can't _help_ me." Hiei looked up at Kurama, the mask dropping, hopelessness filling his face. "No one can help me." That vulnerable expression coupled with his baggy clothes made him look younger than he was, almost fragile.

Kurama took a deep breath. "I can."

Hiei's gaze turned dark. "Do you understand that I am going to _die?_" Unconsciously he placed a hand on his chest.

"Completely." Kurama's voice was passive, neutral.

Brown eyes narrowed. "Why do you care? What do you get out of this?" Sure, Hiei could trust Kurama, hell, he even liked him, but what exactly were the redhead's motivations? Why would someone want to bother with the suicidal school whore?

It was a lose-lose situation.

_I'm just a waste of time._

Something strange flickered across Kurama's face. Sadness? Guilt? Need? He ran a hand through his hair several times, obviously gathering his thoughts. "You're someone to talk to," he began in a measured, careful tone, almost as if he were afraid of his own words, as if they were damning him. "Someone who understands. This place…these people…they don't get it. They have no idea. I just…I just..." he looked away. "I need a friend." His already soft alto had dropped to a whisper and even though Hiei couldn't see Kurama's eyes, the loneliness in his countenance was tangible.

"But-" Hiei tried to reiterate that his time was limited and friendship was a bad idea, but Kurama seemed to read his mind.

"I know this will only be for the next two months, and that's fine. I haven't met anyone else who sees this world the way I do and," he looked up again, "and in a way, I envy you."

The steel in those green eyes left Hiei cold. "You...envy me?"

Red hair spilled over tense shoulders as Kurama nodded.

Hiei tilted his head. As jaded as he was, sometimes life threw him a curve ball and right now he was genuinely surprised. He'd never considered having a real friend this close to the end, but it would be interesting to have someone to commiserate with and it didn't seem like Kurama was going to halt his plans. Perhaps he would even assist.

But he needed a bit more convincing, one more guarantee before he could feel at peace with what was being offered.

"Promise me."

"W-what?" Kurama's eyes went wide, his skin prickling. Hiei couldn't possibly know what a promise meant, how deeply Kurama was bound by his words.

Hiei stood and walked over to the redhead, his expression beyond serious. "Promise me. Whatever goes on between us stays between us and no matter what happens you won't stand in my way." His gaze, which was always intense, seemed to increase tenfold in its severity and Kurama swallowed hard. He couldn't turn back now; too much had been said, and even though nothing had been sworn yet at this point denying his word would mean betrayal.

He searched for his voice. "I p-promise." Somehow he felt that this was another promise he'd regret.

_*DING*_

"Food's ready," Hiei stated, satisfaction across his face. Kurama blinked at him, frozen, until Hiei rolled his eyes, grabbed his arm, and led them downstairs.

* * *

><p>Hiei's gaze followed his friend as Kurama moved about the kitchen, searching through cabinets for plates and utensils. He liked watching the redhead; Kurama had an inherent grace to his movements that indicated he must have been a wonderful dancer in his club days, and he was incredibly easy on the eyes.<p>

_I wonder what he's like in bed; I bet he's very flexible._

Balancing a few plates in his left arm, Kurama leaned to the side and opened the fridge with his right. His face went slack when he looked inside.

"There's nothing in here," he stated, glancing over his shoulder at Hiei, who was seated at the table, idly picking at its surface.

The boy shrugged. "It's always empty; that's how I keep my figure."

"Do you eat at all?" Walking over to Hiei, Kurama began to set the table.

"Not really, it's mostly coffee and cereal." Hiei stated, fiddling with his fork. "I don't sleep much either, maybe a couple of hours a week." It felt weird for him to be talking about this. Weird, yet strangely relaxing.

_Maybe I do need a friend._

"Well, I can't do anything about the sleeping unless you want to take pills, but you _have_ to start eating." Hiei frowned and Kurama gave him a stern look. "If you think you're going to make it two more months without them realizing that something is going on, then you have to stop losing weight. You look sick."

Hiei hated to admit it, but the redhead was right. "I know," he sighed. "Yusuke's already noticed; he's convinced something is wrong with me."

"Is that why you've been avoiding him?" Kurama asked, turning away to search the kitchen for a potholder. Finding one, he went to the microwave and returned to the table with a very hot bowl of spaghetti.

Hiei's eyes followed the trail of steam curling up from the food. "One of the reasons," he admitted, rubbing his head. "Shit. I have to deal with him tomorrow and he's not gonna make this easy."

Sitting down, Kurama served a small amount to both of them and instead of digging in, they stared at their food, trying to find their elusive appetites.

"I think I can help you with Yusuke," Kurama stated, taking the initiative by grabbing his fork and pushing the strings of pasta idly around on his plate.

Hiei gave in and followed suit, then took a bite. When his stomach didn't wage war, he took another. "Really?" His expression was dubious.

The redhead nodded, swallowing a tiny mouthful of food. His insides twisted and he resisted the urge to push the plate away. "He's worried about you. If we can convince him that nothing is wrong, or that something _was_ wrong and has been handled, then he'll leave you alone."

"Hn." Hiei swirled his food through the sauce at the bottom of his plate, then wound the pasta around his fork. "And how do we do that?"

"I don't know actually." Kurama took another bite and struggled to keep it down. _Ugh. Three or four more mouthfuls will count as eating, won't it?_ At Hiei's raised eyebrow, he tilted his head and added, "I'm sure I'll think of something. Just the fact that you and I are talking might distract him enough -"

"It's _Yusuke. _" Hiei interrupted with a snort. "He's going to push until he gets what he wants."

"Then that's what we'll give him. Anything he wants." That solemn mask disappeared and a strange mix of confidence and guile flashed across Kurama's face. It was the same expression he wore in that silver-haired photo, and although it flickered on and off in a matter of seconds, Hiei's doubts had no chance against it.

The rest of their meal passed in mildly comfortable silence and when it became obvious that neither of them could stomach any more food, Kurama rose and began to clear the table. Hiei remained in his seat and after a moment, his eyes widened and he placed a hand on his chest.

_The heaviness…it's gone._

Funny, he hadn't felt that crushing intensity for hours; in fact, for a little while he'd actually _forgotten_ about it.

He glanced up at Kurama, who was busy rinsing dishes in the sink, and his eyes glazed over in wonder. Sure, he could attribute his lightness to his lovely stay with Karasu, or the ass-beating he took from Kirin and Shigure, but once again his money was on the redhead. Pain and pleasure chased his depression away, but never _this_ well; even within his reprieves despair always hung over him, imminent, like a storm at the edge of his consciousness, and no matter how much he tried he could never free himself enough to actually _forget. _

This…this was _new._

Hiei took a deep breath, putting his hand back on the table, and stared at the redhead's back in confusion and amazement.

_Kurama, what have you done to me? _

* * *

><p>A few hours passed. After dinner they moved into the living room and Hiei spent his time diligently chain smoking while Kurama flipped idly through some less-than-interesting magazines. They spoke, occasionally of Yusuke and the others, but they didn't stray into serious topics and their hesitant conversations were littered with silences; although so much had happened between them they were still new to each other, and their ability to converse had been decimated by years of hiding in pain. However, the silences weren't uncomfortable and Hiei was stunned when he finally realized that he'd been in the redhead's company for almost ten hours and didn't want to kill him – even Yusuke tended to grate on Hiei after awhile and the dark-haired boy was his best friend! Of course, it didn't hurt that Kurama was on Hiei's level – they shared the same secret, or a secret so similar that the difference didn't matter; also, the redhead had the surprising ability to bring Hiei slightly back to life.<p>

And Hiei was reveling in that ability.

Draped over the puffy armchair with his back against one arm and his legs dangling over the other, Hiei stared at the ceiling, taking long deep drags off his cigarette and not thinking about anything; he actually felt relaxed and wanted to hold onto that sensation for as long as possible. However, Kurama had other plans.

"Are you going to call your sister?" the redhead asked from the couch, still turning pages although his eyes were on his friend.

Hiei scowled. Reaching back over his head, he ashed blindly into a cup on the table behind him. He really should return Yukina's call, she was worried and he was enough of a burden on her already, but he was procrastinating. He'd been feeling so good these last few hours that the last thing he wanted to do was rehash the hallway incident and go over the whole fucked-up thing again in all its glory.

But she was worried. About him. And Kurama's eyes reflected that.

Sighing, Hiei relented. "I guess so." Grinding out his cigarette he stood and picked up the cordless phone, taking a sideways glance at Kurama, who was stifling a yawn. "Are you staying here tonight?" he asked.

_In my bed?_

Kurama tossed his magazine on the coffee table and stretched his arms above his head, missing the glimmer in Hiei's eyes. "Yes," he answered in a tired voice. "I want to make sure that you don't pass out again. If you have a concussion you'll be suffering its symptoms over the next twenty-four hours and you shouldn't be alone." Kurama didn't stifle the second yawn. Today had been rough, both physically and emotionally, and he was exhausted but he'd vowed to stay awake and watch over Hiei; however, that wasn't a completely selfless act, he would probably force himself to stay awake most of the night anyway. His dreams were becoming so vivid lately that over the last week he often woke feeling sick and disoriented, and he was sure that after Shigure's taunts this afternoon, tonight's dreams would be particularly vicious.

"Whatever." Hiei strolled toward the stairs. He didn't want to speak to his sister under that emerald gaze and when he dealt with Yukina he showed her a softness that was reserved for her alone. "I'll be right back," he told Kurama, heading for his room.

The redhead nodded, eyes following Hiei until he disappeared from sight, then drifting down to the cushion beside him. It seemed so fluffy, so comfortable, so inviting. Giving in to a third yawn, Kurama found himself listing sideways, his body overriding his mind and forcing him to lie on the couch. He didn't put up much of a fight.

_I'll just rest my eyes until he comes back._

**********

Hiei resisted the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the wall, knowing that he didn't need that much help to black out. He had just spent the last half-hour on the phone with Yukina and was tired of saying _I'm fine_, tired of assuring her that he wasn't about to lapse into a coma, and tired of stating that - yes indeed - he had gotten his ass kicked by Mukuro's bitch boys and had to be rescued by Kurama. As he was stating the last part he was sure that he heard Kuwabara snickering in the background and threatened to disembowel the carrot-top as soon as he came into swinging range. Unfortunately that had started a second conversation which didn't end until he promised his sister that he'd be nicer to Kazuma.

_I haven't chopped him into tiny pieces yet, I'd say that's pretty nice by my standards._

He rubbed his right temple, which was beginning to throb; at this point he needed a cigarette and a knife. During the phone call he could feel his depression gathering strength and now it was waiting in the wings, needing less than a breath to muffle him, and he took the stairs quickly, feeding into his sudden urge to return to Kurama.

Entering the living room, he placed the phone back in its cradle. "Well," he stated, "I did some damage control and-"

He stopped, mouth open as he discovered that Kurama was curled up on the couch fast asleep. For a moment Hiei just stood there staring at the redhead and his heart clenched in his chest again, that exposed feeling cracking him open and leaving him breathless. Kurama was always beautiful, but his pain and the mask he used to hide it dulled his beauty, blurring it to something less than it was; however, in sleep, that elfin face lost its underlying grimace, and Kurama's features smoothed into something that looked like angelic peace.

The redhead was stunning, ethereal, and Hiei was in awe. Without even realizing it, he moved closer to Kurama, trancelike, kneeling before his sleeping friend and watching as that slender chest rose and fell in a soft even pattern. Kurama was in a loose fetal position, his head pillowed on his arms, his silver-tipped hair spilling down the front of the couch in a crimson wave. Reaching up, Hiei gently grasped a strand, sampling the texture again; it was thick yet silky and the colour, though unusual, was definitely natural. Looking up, he found that a few errant wisps had fallen across Kurama's cheek, and he watched as they fluttered over the redhead's slightly open mouth, wavering under his breath. Reaching up again, Hiei carefully brushed the hair away, his fingertips tingling as they grazed Kurama's cheek.

That touch caused the redhead to stir and he shifted a little, still lost in a dream. "Mmmm…" he murmured in a breathy alto, a small smile gracing his lips. "Love you…."

Hiei's eyes widened and he held back a gasp, his hand still over Kurama's face.

_He's in love with someone._ The squeezing in Hiei's chest suddenly became painful and it took him a moment to comprehend that he was angry. Why was he angry?

_Because Kurama's hurting. Someone hurt him, someone he loves. _

Then Hiei's memory flashed.

Hands fisted in red hair, choked sobs.

_I'm sorry…_

Hiei's eyebrows furrowed as he remembered what he'd witnessed in the bathroom earlier that day, and that Kurama's face was often sorrowful, but within that sorrow was guilt.

_No, Kurama hurt_ them. His eyes traveled over the redhead, dusting across those serene and peaceful features. Slowly Hiei lowered his hand to his lap.

_Somehow I doubt you could hurt anyone, but we all have our secrets. You keep yours Kurama, and I'll keep mine._

Standing, Hiei grabbed the blanket draped across the back of the couch and gently placed it over Kurama's lithe form. Although they were now officially friends, Hiei knew that this could only go so far. He hoped that they might sleep together, after all love and sex were two very different things and Kurama was obviously single, but as far as sharing more than they had already shared? Impossible. Hiei couldn't tell Kurama all of his secrets - why he was the way he was and what had been done to him. Some things were too horrible for words and if Hiei's past came out he was sure that this friendship would dissolve in a heartbeat.

Through some strange twist of fate Kurama was in his life, and through some strange twist of heart Hiei didn't want to lose him.

_He'll probably sleep for hours; I should get started on my room._

Grabbing his cigarettes, Hiei went into the kitchen and made himself a pot of coffee. Once it was done, he filled the biggest mug he could find, put a ton of sugar in it, and went upstairs. The best thing about insomnia was that he could get a lot done and tonight there was a project that needed his attention.

Clearing a spot on the dresser, Hiei set his mug down and pulled several flat cardboard boxes out from under his bed. Settling on the floor, he constructed the boxes until they stood upright in three dimensions, then made some room against the far wall, placing them in a row, five altogether. They sat silently, awaiting further instructions while Hiei dug through the mess on his desk, looking for a marker. When he finally found one, Hiei grabbed the first box, tilted it forward and wrote YUSUKE on the side in big bold letters; however, he placed the box back against the wall so the name couldn't be seen. He did the same on the next three boxes, writing a different name on each, but when he reached the final box he stopped, hesitating, and looked around.

_It's going to take me weeks to get through this mess._ Stretching up and wincing as his battered wrist protested, he snatched that enormous mug of coffee from his dresser and took a swig.

_But either I go through it now, or they go through it later._

In two months he would be dead. He would leave nothing behind but a horrible mother, a heartbroken sister, and a pile of useless crap; however, he didn't want his friends, or his mother, or worse – the police – searching through his stuff trying to piece together just who he was and why he'd commit such a heinous act. Besides, there were some things he wanted his friends to have, things he knew they wanted and things he wanted them to remember him by…if he was even worth remembering. Over the next eight weeks, under the pretense of moving out, he would be sorting through his belongings. Most items would be thrown away, a few things would be burned, but the more precious ones would be divided up among his friends; hence, the boxes.

Standing, Hiei put his coffee back on the dresser and paced the room a bit, finally coming to rest on the bed. Rifling through the sheets, he dug out Koku and fiddled with the stuffed dragon's good ear, staring at the unlabeled box.

There was one name he hadn't written down. He was procrastinating again. Why? Was he afraid? What was he afraid of? Why did he even care?

_I need a friend…_

All he could see were solemn green eyes.

_I envy you…_

His chest felt tight again, his heart began to pound.

_I promise…_

Suddenly the magic marker was back in Hiei's hand, and he was sitting in front of the final box. With a long sigh, he uncapped the pen, tilted the box forward and gave in, writing a name across the side in large capital letters, a name that echoed through his mind far more than he'd like to admit, a name he somehow knew would become more important to him than his own:

_KURAMA._


	5. March 18th, 2005

~Author's Note~

-Warnings: Yaoi, Self-Mutilation, tons of Angst and a little Hiei/Kurama smut.

* * *

><p>"<em>There are split seconds in the morning between waking and sleep when you know nothing. Not just things missing like where or who you are, but nothing. The fact of being alive has no substance. No awareness of skin and bone, the trap inside the skull. For those split seconds you hover in the sky like Icarus. Then you remember.<em>"

**The Trick Is To Keep Breathing**  
>Janice Galloway<p>

**Chapter 5: March 18****th****, 2005**

_"You know that you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, right?"_

_"I bet you say that to all the silver-haired boys with tails."_

_"Maybe. But when I say it to you, I mean it."_

_"I'm tremendously flattered. Really."_

_"You should be…OK, OK, what's _that_ look for?"_

_"Stop trying to change the subject. You never told me what you think of my plan."_

_"Well….you're sweet, but it won't work."_

_"Why not?"_

_"I can't just leave."_

_"And you can't stay there anymore…Don't let fear make the choice for you. I promise, if you say yes I'll make sure that he never hurts you again."_

_"Like I said, you're sweet. But you can't save me Kurama."_

_"Of course I can."_

_Then why didn't you come?"_

_"W-What?"_

_"I waited for you Kurama."_

_"No. NO. This is wrong." _

_"You promised me, Kurama."_

_"Y-You…it-it's not supposed to be like this."_

_"It hurts Kurama, it hurts so much. Why did you let this happen?"_

_"I'm…I'm sorry."_

_"I'm still waiting, Kurama."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"_

_"I'M SORRY!"_

* * *

><p>With a screeching wail, Kurama jolted upright, scrambling violently as tears slid down his cheeks. Almost falling to the floor he froze, suddenly realizing that he wasn't in his bedroom – he was on a couch, someone's couch, and by the grey light filtering in through the blinds it was close to morning. Choking back a sob, he looked around with wide eyes, disoriented, the dream and the strange setting leaving him mindless. After a moment memory served, telling him that he was in Hiei's living room although Hiei was nowhere in sight. Taking a few deep breaths, Kurama wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to steady himself, but that angry voice echoing in his head sent his stomach churning along with his mind. His recurring dreams had always played back happier, peaceful memories - which were painful enough upon waking alone – but now the universe was pushing his limits by altering his dreams, changing them to highlight his broken promise and amplify his guilt.<p>

Slowly, silver-tipped hair draped over Kurama's legs as he put his head in his hands.

_I never want to sleep again…_

"Kurama?"

The redhead snapped up, whirling around to find Hiei standing in the doorway to the kitchen, concern breaking through his indifferent features. He was still in that oversized sweatshirt from the night before, although now it was rumpled and dirty, and a streak of black marker smudged his still-swollen left cheek. From the circles under his eyes it was obvious that he hadn't slept at all.

"I-I" Kurama tried to respond, disturbed that someone had heard him crying out in his sleep, but suddenly his body started to seize and his stomach backflipped…twice. Eyes widening, he clamped his hands over his mouth, forcing back the urge to be sick on the living room floor.

Hiei watched, alarmed, as the redhead turned grey, then slightly green. "Bathroom, _now!_" he barked without a second thought.

Immediately, Kurama sprang up and dashed into the hallway bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he saw last night's dinner again. Minutes passed as he retched and retched, purging himself until he was empty and beyond, trying to force out the dream as well. For a few moments he hovered over the toilet – unsure - until the shaking stopped, then he washed his face, borrowed some mouthwash and slowly left the bathroom.

A steaming mug was pushed into his hands as soon as he reached the end of the hallway.

Blinking, Kurama gave his host a gentle smile. "Thank you Hiei, but I don't drink cof-"

"It's tea," the brunet replied in a monotone. "Chamomile and Yerba Matte, it will relax you and your stomach." Then, almost as if he thought he was being too nice, he turned away with a snort.

Sniffing the concoction, Kurama re-entered the living room, settling into the overstuffed chair instead of the couch. "Thank you," he said softly, sipping at the beverage. Hiei was right, the hot liquid relaxed him and the combination of tastes was very soothing.

Hiei shrugged, perching on the arm of the couch and nursing his own mug in silence, somehow knowing that Kurama needed a few moments to himself. Finally, when Hiei drained the last few drops from his cup, he placed it on the end table and glanced at the redhead.

"Does that always happen?"

Green eyes flicked up to him. "The dreams? Yes." They flicked back to Kurama's lap. "However, the vomiting is new."

Hiei tilted his head with a frown.

"Was I…was I?" Since he had been heard, Kurama wanted to know if he had cried out anything coherent in his sleep, yet was unsure of how to ask the question without looking foolish.

Thankfully, Hiei seemed to understand.

"I was upstairs cleaning my room and had just gone to get another cup of coffee when you started whimpering. You didn't scream much; all I heard was '_Sorry_'."

Kurama looked down, a curtain of red hair hiding his face.

"I…" Kurama glanced up again at the sound of Hiei's voice. The boy had his head turned to the side and although he was facing the window Kurama doubted that he was looking through it.

"I've had my share of nightmares." His voice was matter-of-fact. "It gets us any way it can."

Kurama studied his cup, then turned to the window. Hiei had drawn the blinds and the predawn sky was beginning to streak with yellows and pinks. If Shiori wasn't already home she would be soon and Kurama wanted to be there so she didn't worry.

But he didn't want to leave Hiei either.

"What time is it?" he asked, mercifully changing the subject.

"Almost six-thirty."

Kurama blinked. "I've been asleep for seven hours? I was supposed to be checking on _you_." That was a new record, over the last few weeks he was lucky if he crossed the five hour mark.

Hiei picked up the blanket that Kurama had tossed to the floor, folded it, then placed it back on the couch. "I'm fine." He didn't meet Kurama's eyes. "Besides, you were sleeping like the dead when I got off the phone with my sister; I wasn't going to wake you so you could stare at me all night."

Kurama managed a smirk. "And all you did was clean your room?"

Hiei raised an eyebrow. "You were in it yesterday; now you can almost see the floor." He had made considerable headway last night in sorting through his things but he hadn't cleaned out his dresser, his closet, or the crap under his bed and each one of those were formidable opponents. Of course it didn't help that he had to stop for an hour and plug up his nose because it wouldn't stop bleeding but Kurama didn't need to know that. Hiei had managed to stay conscious the whole night and also kept dinner down, so in reality he was faring better than the redhead.

"When do you think Yusuke will stop by?" Kurama began to comb through his hair with his fingers, wincing a bit as he encountered tangles.

Hiei flopped down on the couch. "Well, if he decides to go to school, he'll be here in an hour or two. If he cuts, then anytime today."

"He'll be at school," Kurama stated. "There's a chemistry test today and he needs to take it. Keiko even knows about it."

"Then he's definitely going," Hiei snorted. "That girl has him on a short leash."

Kurama removed his hand from his hair, shaking loose some errant strands. Hiei watched them drift to the floor. "And Keiko has no idea about you and Yusuke?"

"None at all," Hiei smirked running a hand through his own hair, encouraging it to stand at attention. It did so easily.

Craning his neck, Kurama caught a glimpse of his condo through the window and noticed that the garage and kitchen lights were on. "Mother's home," he stated. "I should go over there for a little while. She'll want to know how we're doing."

Hiei blinked. "What about Yusuke?"

Kurama's eyes traveled from the window to Hiei's face. "I'll be back in about half an hour. He shouldn't show up before then, right?"

The shorter boy shook his head and they both stood, a weird thick silence descending over them as Hiei walked Kurama to the door. They stared at each other for a bit instead of saying goodbye, then the redhead inclined his head and slipped outside. Hiei stole a furtive glance at Kurama's ass before the door closed.

_I can't believe he stayed over last night and nothing happened. I'm losing my touch. _

Absentmindedly scratching his right forearm, for the slashes always itched like hell as they healed, Hiei headed upstairs. Pulling and tugging on the bandaging, he removed the gauze and dumped it on his bedroom floor, his clothes quickly joining the pile.

_I might as well shower before Yusuke gets here and the shit hits the fan._

Sighing, he made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a few items along the way. Sliding open the shower door, he started the water then set a towel and a pair of scissors on the sink. After adjusting the temperature he stepped into the stall, letting the water run over his aching body while contemplating a patch of unmarred skin on his right shoulder. Pressing his lips together, he pushed through the weight settling in his being and reached out for his crutch, wrapping his hand around the familiar blades. Kurama wasn't a cure-all; in fact, he was far from it. Hiei had certain routines now, cycles that gave him comfort, and at this point - with what was to happen today - pain was long overdue. Opening the scissors, he breathed out, placed the sharp edge against his skin, and began the ritual.

* * *

><p>Exactly a half hour later, Hiei was on the balcony with a cigarette and another cup of coffee, wrapped in a blanket, watching Kurama's condo like a hawk even though his pride would claim that he was just getting some air…some very brisk air. He could see movement through the Minaminos' windows but the gauzy curtains kept him from figuring out who he saw or what was going on. Finally, just when his hands began to go numb from the cold, Kurama's front door opened and the redhead stepped outside.<p>

He had changed clothes; dark jeans and another of those endless black sweaters were poking out from under his fur-lined coat, and that long silver-tipped hair was pulled back into a ponytail, wisps falling out of the tie and framing his beautiful face. One would think that the style was too feminine for the redhead but Kurama wore it flawlessly, and Hiei felt his cock stir as he ran his eyes over that bare neck, suddenly wanting to taste it, to scrape his teeth against it, to feel that lean body shudder under his hands.

_He's definitely not sleeping on the couch tonight._

Just as Kurama closed the door it reopened behind him and Shiori appeared. Hiei leaned on the railing, taking another drag off his cigarette as he watched mother and son exchange a few words. Something was placed in Kurama's hand and Hiei figured out that it was pills when the redhead went through the motions: tossing them into this mouth and accepting the glass of water Shiori provided. She fussed over Kurama for another moment then shoved a plastic bag in his hands and shut the door.

Taking a final deep drag, Hiei flicked the cigarette off the balcony and made his way to the front door, opening it just as Kurama knocked.

"Kitchen," the redhead mumbled, insistence overtaking his polite demeanor as he brushed past Hiei and made his way through the rooms. Curious, the smaller boy followed, eyes widening as Kurama practically tossed the bag on the counter and then opened the garbage can, leaning over it and gagging.

"Kurama, what-"

After a few heaves, the redhead spit into the pail and then stepped away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Sorry." There was sweat across his forehead. He chuckled dimly. "You probably think I'm bulimic."

"Hn." Against his better judgment, Hiei glanced into the can. His eyebrows rose at what he saw. "You take meds?"

Kurama leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and trying to regain control. "I'm _given_ meds."

"But you don't take them. Why?"

Green eyes studied Hiei for a moment. Guarded. Calculating. Considering. Finally, Kurama looked away, stating, "They block my pain."

Hiei snorted, looking at the redhead as if he were a complete idiot. "Why not block it? Do you _like_ feeling this way?" He wasn't a fan of modern psychology, but from what Kurama was saying it sounded like the pills were actually _working_ yet he chose to suffer instead. Hiei didn't get it; he had to struggle long and hard to find any relief from the heaviness and even if he wanted to get help, the process of doing so was complicated and required that his mother gave a shit, which she didn't. Not that he'd want to go that route anyway; he was too jaded from reaching out all those years ago, and now he was so mentally broken that all he'd get was a long hospital stay followed by a series of drugs that would leave him a mindless zombie.

_No._

Even if they proved him wrong, even if they had the ability to eradicate his pain – which he was _very_ sure they didn't - it wouldn't be as simple as popping a few pills, it would be a rough path tempered by the fact that in three months he would be eighteen and responsible for his own health care, which would leave him back at square one again. He was, as always, on his own with this and there was only one solution, only one way out.

_Just six weeks left. Then I don't have to feel anything anymore._

"Hiei." The solemnity of Kurama's voice brought him back to the present. Their eyes met. "All pain serves a purpose." There was a strange insistence behind that statement.

Hiei tilted his head, wondering if his suffering had any purpose, any meaning. After all these years he still had no idea why he felt the way he did, why the universe seemed to press down on him, making him feel worthless, empty, and violently alone. And he seriously doubted that Kurama had all the answers…

Crossing his arms and mimicking the redhead's stance, Hiei asked, "Then what's the reason _you're_ in pain?"

Kurama looked away again. His hands, which were resting on his upper arms, tightened in the cloth of his sweater. "I'm being punished," he said softly, closing his eyes.

Hiei blinked. _Punished?_ His mind raced through the last twenty-four hours: Kurama's sorrow-laced guilt, the words he mumbled as he slept, the nightmares that left him screaming apologies, and now…the remorse. It all came together to reinforce what Hiei already knew - Kurama _had_ hurt someone. But what could he have done to deserve the penance he wreaked upon himself? Kurama seemed like a gentle soul, a loyal soul, incapable of causing pain to someone he loved.

_I could be wrong, I've been fooled before._

"What-" Hiei began, wanting to know more, but the doorbell rang and Yusuke's brassy voice reached through the front door and clear into the kitchen, where it made both of its occupants wince.

_Great timing, asshole._

Muttering a few choice words, Hiei ran a hand over his face in exasperation. He still wasn't sure if he was ready for this.

Suddenly, Kurama straightened. "I'm going to freshen up," he stated, heading for the bathroom and ignoring the stream of inventive curses Yusuke shouted through the door as the doorbell rang three more times.

"So you aren't going to help me with this?" Hiei tailed the redhead, stopping just before he grabbed the back of his sweater. He needed Kurama but he wasn't about to humiliate himself showing it.

"I am." Kurama turned and gave him a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "There is a lot to be said for the element of surprise. Keep him busy and don't tell him I'm here, okay?"

"…fine." Hiei really didn't want to trust Kurama but he was out of options. Yusuke was now pounding on the door and if he waited any longer to answer it the damn thing would break off its hinges. Watching Kurama vanish into the bathroom, Hiei took a deep breath, reached into his pocket, and lit a cigarette, giving himself enough false courage to grasp the doorknob and pull open the front door.

"It's about time," Yusuke said, putting his hands on his hips and scowling.

Hiei rolled his eyes and, by way of a greeting, blew smoke in his friend's face. "Could you be any louder?"

Annoyed, Yusuke waved his hand in front of his nose, dispelling the smoke. "I called you yesterday and _said_ I was coming over. I just wanted to make sure you answered the door this time."

"Hn." Hiei turned away, leaving the door open, and walked toward the kitchen. "Coffee?" he asked with a grumble.

"Sure…" Closing the door, Yusuke stripped off his coat and threw it on the couch, joining his friend in the kitchen. The annoyance he arrived with snowballed into seething anger as Hiei ignored him, keeping his back to him while preparing the coffee, then completely dodging eye contact as he shoved a cup into his hands and returned to the counter.

Gritting his teeth, Yusuke clenched the mug so tightly that he thought it would shatter in his grasp.

_I'm sick of him avoiding me._

Standing, he slowly approached Hiei, who still had his back to him as he busily stirred sugar into his own cup. Reaching over the small boy's shoulder Yusuke grasped that thin wrist, stopping all motion, then used that grip to spin Hiei around.

"Tell me what's going on," he spat, fury in his eyes. They'd been friends for as long as he could remember, they told each other everything, they even shared each other's bodies, and now Hiei was shrugging all of that off, evading, keeping him in the dark about something that – deep down - Yusuke knew was important.

_I'll beat this out of you if I have to._

Wrenching his hand away, Hiei sidestepped him. "Nothing's going on, idiot," he shot back, walking into the living room.

Yusuke was right on his heels. "I haven't seen you in two fucking weeks and all you say is there's _nothing going on_? Don't give me that shit." Again he grabbed his friend except this time it was by the shoulder, and Hiei jerked, crying out.

Yusuke snatched his hand back, unaware that he had just squeezed the life out of Hiei's newest acquisition, a gash that was thumping in pain and now probably bleeding through the bandage.

"W-what?" Yusuke stuttered before his brain kicked in and then he chided himself for being so rough.

_He's probably still banged up from yesterday's fight._

Ashamed that he had shown weakness, Hiei ducked his head, rubbing his shoulder, but a hand touched his chin, and his face was lifted up, then tilted awkwardly to the side.

"Wow," Yusuke said softly, staring at the nasty bruise on Hiei's cheek. "They really beat the shit out of you, didn't they?"

Hiei frowned and pulled his head away, escaping the touch. It was too gentle and he couldn't think straight when Yusuke acted like that. "I held my own," he muttered.

"Riiiight." Sarcasm dripped from Yusuke's reply as he leaned against the back of the couch, his fury easing under the familiarity of their friendship. He _would_ find out what was going on, but that could wait a few minutes. "So, is it true?" he asked with a half-smile. "Was it really Kurama who put them in the hospital?"

Hiei sniffed, wishing he hadn't left his cigarette in the kitchen. "Yeah," he mumbled.

Yusuke's eyes were like saucers. "Really? But…but he's so _girly_."

Hiei raised an eyebrow, wondering if Kurama could hear them from his post in the bathroom. "Watch it," he warned, "He could probably kick your ass too."

Yusuke snickered. "I doubt it. He looks more like a chick than Keiko does."

"Then why don't you fuck _him_?"

That last word shot through the room like a fire bolt, shattering the camaraderie, and Hiei pursed his lips, turning away, wanting to kick himself for blurting out something that put them right back at odds again.

Yusuke's eyes narrowed as he stared at Hiei's back, the silence around them thick and suffocating. He knew, just knew, that there would be hard feelings once their trysts ended but to hear the bitterness in Hiei's voice, to feel it, was different than second guessing.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me, Hiei?" Yusuke started carefully, "Because I'm sleeping with Keiko now?"

Hiei refused to look at him. He would falter, he _always_ faltered when it came to Yusuke. Something about his friend was so true, so pure and genuine that he felt lost within that gaze, unsure, so afraid that Yusuke could reach down and read his soul. It was better if he just kept staring at the carpet.

_Kurama, I swear I will kick your ass in about seven different ways if you don't get out of that bathroom _now_._

Taking a deep breath, Hiei focused on a cigarette burn by his feet. "I don't care if you're fucking Keiko or if you're not fucking Keiko," he spat. "All I care about is if you're fucking me."

"Then it _is_ the fact that I'm sleeping with Keiko. Or that I'm not sleeping with you."

Hiei glanced at Yusuke over his shoulder, bangs in his eye. "Hardly. I'm not that sentimental. We were friends that fucked, nothing more." It came out harsher than he'd meant it but he needed Yusuke to back off.

Unfortunately, that didn't deter Yusuke in the slightest, it only served to strengthen that famous tenacity, fuel his stubbornness. Incensed, he moved around Hiei to stare him down, and when those red-brown eyes refused to meet his own, Yusuke placed a hand on his friend's arm, trying anything he could to stay connected to someone he could feel drifting away.

"Then what is it Hiei?" he asked quietly, tenderly, searching just as he had weeks ago. "What's wrong? And don't tell me _nothing_ because I can see it. I might not be the sharpest pencil in the box but I know when I'm losing my best friend."

Hiei grimaced, guilt piercing him. "You're not losing me," he whispered.

_Yet_.

That unspoken word lingered on his tongue, so palpable that Hiei was afraid Yusuke could see it hanging in the air between them.

Suddenly, Hiei's chin was forced up again, and he gazed into a face awash with concern. "Then why does it feel like I am?" Yusuke pressed, his voice hushed and serious, almost vulnerable.

Hiei's heart lurched and he swallowed hard; just as he'd expected, Yusuke was breaking through his resolve. Keeping this from his friend was harder than he ever thought it could be, and he needed to be strong right now or he would be exposed. Using the agony in his shoulder as an anchor, Hiei dug deep, reminding himself that what he was doing was right. Yusuke couldn't help him and it would only make things worse if he tried. There were no other options, there was no other way, and it was better if he stayed in the dark.

_I'm sorry. You're a good friend…my _best_ friend. But you don't understand. And if I told you everything, you'd hate me. Justt stop caring about me; it will make it easier on both of us. _

"Yusuke," Hiei pulled his chin out of that grasp and steeled his gaze, each pulse of pain making the wall between them thicker, pushing them further apart. "In three months I'll be homeless," he began, sticking to the facts. "I probably won't graduate, which means I have to find a job and some shithole to live in. Plus…" he hesitated for effect. "I haven't been feeling that well."

Yusuke's instincts registered that the last statement was close to the truth. "Is that it? Hiei?" he asked, bearing down on him. "Are you sick?"

"Yes," came a voice from the doorway, making both of them jump. The conversation had gotten so intense that even Hiei had forgotten about his redheaded houseguest.

Standing casually in the entryway to the living room, the redhead – who had lost the ponytail and let his hair loose - studied his two friends with an unreadable expression.

"Kurama!" Yusuke stuttered, pulling away from Hiei. "What the hell? H-how long have you been standing there?"

The redhead smothered a smirk at his friend's guilty face. "Hello Yusuke, not long," he replied lightly, walking into the room. Joining them, he leaned against the back of the couch a few feet away, giving the two some space, and smiled at Yusuke, letting the silence stretch between them until the brassy teen snapped.

"Well?" Yusuke's voice was pitched a little higher than normal. "Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Kurama repressed a second smirk "Of course, Yusuke." Taking a quick glance at Hiei, who was studiously nonplussed, the redhead looked straight into his friend's eyes and – with total believability - said, "After the fight yesterday, my mother brought us both home –"

Yusuke gave Hiei a look that could only be translated as WHAT. Hiei just shrugged and flicked his eyes back to Kurama.

"-and once she examined Hiei she felt that he might have a concussion. So," he tilted his head, eyes wide and innocent, stance natural and relaxed, completely confident and convincing. If Hiei didn't know he was lying he would have thought everything Kurama said was true. Well, it _was_ true, but it wasn't exactly the _full_ truth.

_He's really good. That's how he has his mother fooled. I just hope Yusuke's buys it._

"-she asked me to monitor him for twenty-four hours; I've been here since last night, but I went home for breakfast."

Yusuke gave Hiei another glance, this time with a raised eyebrow.

Hiei responded by snorting at him. "He slept on the couch, you fool."

Scowling, Yusuke turned back to Kurama. "But that still doesn't explain what's been going on with Hiei."

Green eyes slid toward Hiei, and the connection between him and Kurama sizzled. Instantly he fell into step with the lie, knowing exactly what the redhead wanted him to say.

"Tell him if you want," he muttered.

Kurama sighed dramatically. "Mother thinks that he might have mono. She felt that he was a bit thin and after asking him a few questions it turns out that he's been walking around with it for about a month now. It's mostly transmitted through physical contact, so you might want to get checked out-"

"Wait wait _wait!_" Yusuke shouted, hands in the air. Glaring at Hiei while trying not to look like a gaping fish, he shrieked, "You _told_ him?"

Hiei barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. "He knew."

Rounding on Kurama again, Yusuke was looking more like that fish as the redhead grinned and stated, "I've known for quite awhile, Yusuke. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone – if I wanted to I would have done so by now." He gestured flippantly. "And I'm certainly not going to _judge_ you."

Hiei almost laughed but decided on a cigarette instead as his body lurched, wanting more nicotine. Darting into the kitchen he made it back with a freshly lit stick just as Yusuke looked at his watch, cursing.

"Shit, I have to be in homeroom in half an hour." He was slowly but surely freaking out with the thought that he might have given Keiko mono, and if he did, she would most likely castrate him.

_And how the hell did Kurama know about me and Hiei? Did anybody else figure it out too?_

"Hey," he said to Hiei as he wandered back into the living room. "Can I bum one?" His nerves could use it; paranoia was _not_ a good colour on him.

Shrugging, Hiei grabbed the pack from his pocket and popped a fresh stick into Yusuke's mouth. Standing on his toes, he touched the end of his own burning cigarette to his friend's, lighting it, but as he pulled away he found his wrist in another tight hold.

"Just…" never the eloquent one, Yusuke grasped for words, his voice husked with emotion despite the whirlwind inside. "Just take care of yourself man, I'm worried. You know that I care about you, right?"

Flushing, Hiei yanked his hand away. "Go to school you idiot," he mumbled, glancing at Kurama - who didn't bother to hide a third smirk - before leaving the room again, this time heading up the stairs.

Alone together, Yusuke rubbed the back of his head and gave the redhead a strange look that said he didn't want to trust him but couldn't find any reason _not_ to. Kurama stared back, composed, and they stayed like that for a moment until Yusuke broke the silence.

"You be careful with him." There was urgency, warning, and the hint of a threat in those dark eyes.

Unruffled, Kurama smiled, his expression the perfect mixture of innocence and persuasion. "Of course," he lilted, his voice soothing. At this point he was sure that Yusuke would back off – he had given a perfectly good explanation for Hiei's actions and appearance, been reassuring that he was in good hands, and then used the simple tactics of blindside and distraction. It was almost _too_ easy. Of course, Yusuke's instincts still insisted that something was wrong but now he had bigger worries to sidetrack him…

Like non-existent mono.

Staring at Kurama for another moment, with his forehead crinkled and confusion clouding his eyes, Yusuke finally huffed and - without saying goodbye – turned and threw on his coat, leaving in a cloud of smoke, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Kurama found Hiei in his room, which was somewhat cleaner than last night, picking his way through the trash on his dresser, collecting lighters. There had to be at least five in his hand and he tossed them into a drawer by the bed when the redhead walked in.<p>

"You should be an actor," he deadpanned but there was admiration in his eyes.

"You're welcome," Kurama replied smugly, settling on the bed. He studied a very worn stuffed dragon whose head was peeking out from under the blanket.

"I think Yusuke will leave you alone for awhile," he added, picking up the toy. Settling it in his lap he petted it absently.

Hiei watched, a little stunned by not instantly wanting to stab Kurama for touching Koku - in fact not really minding at all. Instead, he was wondering if he should jump the redhead as a proper thank you, show him just how much he appreciated his efforts with a mind-scrambling blow job…

When the phone rang.

His stomach clenched. He had already spoken to Yukina and Yusuke, which left only one person who would call at this hour. His dread was confirmed when, after four rings, the answering machine beeped and a harsh female voice echoed through the condo, reaching Hiei's ears and cutting him just as deeply as he cut his flesh.

"You little son of a bitch. I just got back to my flat after working late-"

_You weren't working late; you were fucking your boss. I'm not as stupid as you think I am. _Hiei refused to look at Kurama, staring intently at the wall and gritting his teeth until his jaw ached.

"-and there's a message on my machine about you getting kicked out of school again. Why am I not surprised? You're a useless piece of trash -"

He ignored the redhead's gasp, clenching his fists along with his jaw.

"-who's caused me nothing but trouble. Why can't you be more like your _sister_?" She sighed in frustration, but there was so much more behind it, and Hiei closed his eyes, hating everything.

When she spoke again, her tone was icy, venomous, distant and cold, the harshness accentuated even further by the cheap speaker on the machine.

"I hope you're packing your shit because you're out the day you turn eighteen. I'm done with you. And tell the school not to bother because I don't care anymore. I swear, you worthless slut, that if I get one more call about you I will make sure you regret you were ever born. I certainly do."

They could hear her slam the phone down before the machine whirred and beeped, stopping its recording.

Hiei was trying hard not to tremble, to show anger or despair. She shouldn't affect him like this but she did…she always did. There was too much baggage between them and because of what had happened their relationship was beyond repair. He had suffered too much damage at her hands to cut her off, they were cruelly intertwined and at the deep black core of his depression she was there mocking him, feeding the fire, handing him the blade. He could no longer stop his reaction to her than he could stop his breathing and until he died he would be at the mercy of her twisted will, just as he always was.

"Was that your _mother_?" Kurama's voice was breathy with disbelief. When Hiei turned to him the redhead's eyes were wide, mouth open, and he was clutching Koku in tight hands.

Hiei couldn't answer; it took almost everything he had to just nod. The gash in his shoulder thumped with his racing heart, summoning him, and the weight of the morning, of the week, of this life, pressed down, the heaviness swallowing him once again.

Without thinking he tore out of the room, mindless, heading toward the bathroom.

"_Hiei!_" Kurama shouted after him, and he could hear the fright in the redhead's voice, but it was a distant noise consumed by the whirring in his head and the continuous throb of his body.

_Pain_.

It called out as it always did, beckoning, promising to damn the despair, to the lift the weight in his chest.

_Pain_.

He slammed the bathroom door shut, locking it just as Kurama reached it.

"Hiei?" the redhead's voice was soft, concerned, reaching through the door and touching Hiei with its timbre. He shook his head, ignoring it, and robotically pulled open the bottom drawer of the sink, grabbing the scissors. Sitting on the floor with his back against the tiles, he drew up his knees and his left sleeve. Should he reopen a healing wound and watch it bleed again or just carve a new bloody path into his skin?

"Hiei, please…just speak to me."

He froze, looking up with unsure eyes but his body and brain took the wheel, his gaze shooting down as the scissor flicked open almost of its own accord and, without hesitation, sliced cleanly and deeply across his left forearm.

Pain seared through the limb, edging away the heaviness, and he breathed deeply as the rush of adrenaline made him feel alive and weightless for a moment. Raising the blade he moved to cut again but froze as the doorknob clicked, then turned, and the door swung open.

_Wh-what? He picked the lock?_

Kurama stepped inside, slipping what looked like a mangled paper clip back into his pocket. With relief in his face he immediately kneeled next to Hiei but didn't touch him.

Refusing to meet Kurama's gaze, Hiei closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. Breathing in through his nose he lowered his hand, placing the razor-sharp edge of the scissors below the first slash and pressing into the flesh.

"You can watch if you want," he stated flatly, feeling blood slide down his arm and drip to the floor. At this point he didn't care if Kurama was in the room or not; the redhead had seen him in this state before - it was nothing new - and Hiei couldn't stop right now if he tried. He _needed_ this.

Then a low, angry voice broke through his resolve.

"She's a horrible woman. You don't deserve to be treated that way." The vehemence in that alto shocked Hiei, and his eyes snapped back open in surprise -

To see that odd gold glimmer in the depths of Kurama's gaze.

He swayed, wanting so very much right then and there to believe Kurama, put his faith in him…but what was the point? There was no changing who he was, what he'd done...

What he was _going_ to do.

His body shuddered, echoing his thoughts, and Hiei clenched his fist, forcing more blood through the first wound, trying to look away but failing.

"I do deserve it." His voice was hoarse, but firm.

The gaze turned colder, more analytical, as Kurama's eyes narrowed, the play of fluorescent light on tile creating harsh lines across his face. "Does she speak to Yukina that way?"

"Hn. No." Hiei's body racked, churned, screamed for pain as the heaviness began to roll in like storm clouds, the first cut only restraining it for so long. "My sister is perfect."

Managing to tear his eyes from Kurama's, he took a slow breath and sliced through his arm once again, air hitching in his lungs as pain blurred his thoughts, disengaging him from reality. The slash was white for a moment before blood spilled in, like wine through a satin blouse. Hiei watched foggily, eyes lidded as he rode the endorphins into weightlessness again, his hold on the scissors loosening as his limbs went limp.

_I hope death is like this. _

Suddenly, Kurama sprung into motion. Reaching up, he grabbed a hand towel and before Hiei knew it, the fabric was wrapped around his arm in a few fluid motions, the redhead's strong hand squeezing his forearm, applying pressure.

Ripped from his reverie, Hiei only managed to sputter, "Kurama, what the fu-" before he was enveloped in a strong rose-scented embrace and the shock and anger at being interrupted melted away.

The redhead was _hugging_ him. Comforting him. And as those long arms tightened around his body what was left of the heaviness – those cold base pieces in his soul that never quite dissipated no matter what he did – pulled away, receded, then completely vanished.

Just like they did last night.

The scissors clattered to the floor, landing on blood-speckled tiles as Hiei fought within himself, torn between the need to pull back and the need to curl up in Kurama's arms. He was solitary in his pain, not worthy of comfort…

Afraid of being betrayed again.

But it was nice to be comforted, to feel security, warmth, gentleness. It was something he hadn't gotten since he was very young, and he missed it more than he ever thought he would.

His programming warred with Kurama's embrace until the redhead's free hand wound up into his hair, petting him, running fingers loosely through the strands and at that touch any internal strife flitted from Hiei's consciousness. Somehow his pain couldn't compete with that touch and although he didn't feel that he deserved such kindness, he would revel in it for as long as he could.

Letting out a long shuddering sigh, he pressed his forehead into Kurama's shoulder and snaked his untoweled arm around that slender waist, reaching for that body just as quickly as he had reached for the scissors which now lay discarded on the floor.

Slowly, he curled his fist in the back of Kurama's sweater as his soul relaxed. It was nice just to _be_ there in Kurama's arms. Not to have to do anything but be held, be supported. The hug lacked any carnality, any suggestions of sex, was pure and true and existed solely to reassure Hiei, to give him something to lean on so he didn't feel weighted down to his death. He drifted, riding a wave of something akin to peace, and snuggled closer as the redhead slowly began to rock them.

Overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last few moments and more than glad that Hiei hadn't spurned him, Kurama smiled a bit, relaxing into the hold as he swayed them, continuing to run his hand through that shock of hair. It was softer than expected and he enjoyed the feel of it between his fingers. Actually, he enjoyed everything about the embrace. For once there was no guilt in his conscience, no grief. It was soothing to rest in the arms of another again, to feel close enough to a person to let himself go. He had escaped his private hell by finding refuge with another, which would eventually damn him further, but right now he wasn't concerned with torturing himself, only with preventing Hiei from inflicting further self-torture.

His right hand twitched from being held in a tight grip and Kurama realized that he would have to break away from the hug. Although the red-soaked towel had stopped most of the blood, Hiei's cuts were deep and needed to be treated. Absently, Kurama wondered how long Hiei usually laid there, bleeding out, hoping one day to cut a little too deep…

Taking in a breath, Kurama ran his hand from Hiei's hair down the back of his neck, then over the bumps of his spine, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. The smaller teen lifted his face in response, and the redhead stilled as - for a second - Hiei was innocent and beautiful with drowsy peace.

Then he blinked a few times and his expression darkened, a slight blush colouring his cheeks as he began to pull away. Kurama held him by the toweled arm.

"I want to clean these," the redhead said softly. Hiei looked down at his forearm, then shrugged, and settled back against the wall, silent. Watching.

It was an echo of Yusuke's party. After Kurama peeled the blood-wet hand towel away, he removed supplies from the medicine cabinet and began treating Hiei's wounds. Again neither spoke: Kurama quick yet thorough in his care, Hiei continuing to follow the redhead with his eyes.

His strange brown eyes…

Suddenly, Hiei's body quaked as he was thrust into memory. Looking up to the ceiling, he shook his head, trying to dislodge the image of his dad - an image that had become fuzzy with time. There was a face, although the features were skewed, smoky and hazy, then there were the eyes – his own eyes – except his dad's held love, crinkling along the edges as they looked at him. There were smaller things too, snippets of memory – the sound of his laugh, the way he smelled, his long shaggy dark hair, the strength in his arms as he held Hiei high above his head, tossing him into the air again and again, making him feel like he'd fall if he wasn't there to catch him.

..and then he disappeared, and Hiei certainly fell. Fell further than he ever thought he would.

A year after his death – almost to the day - Hina took their wedding picture down from the living room wall and hid the photo albums, never sharing his image again. But there were those moments when she just _looked_ at Hiei and he knew with complete certainty that he resembled his father. And that just gave his mother reason to hate him more, to add to the resentment that wore him down everyday.

Blinking a few times he lowered his gaze to Kurama, who had stopped in concern. As they locked eyes Hiei jerked again and the past just spilled out of him, like the redhead's soul was a magnet, pulling shards of metal words from his lips.

"When I was little," his voice was still hoarse. "I loved ice cream. A few weeks after Yukina and I turned five I asked my father if we could go out because I wanted a vanilla cone…and there was this place down the street that'd he'd take us to all the time."

He paused and took in a breath, not used to saying so much at once. Kurama was as still as a statue, his hair twisted so it stayed back, hands frozen in the mid-wrap of gauze around Hiei's forearm.

"My mother said no because it was raining. She didn't want him to drive." Hiei looked away, eyes on the doorframe but not really seeing it.

"But I asked again and again and finally my father gave in. He went alone, because of the rain-" his body racked once more, heaved, and Kurama dropped the gauze, placing Hiei's right hand in both of his. Although he kept his burning gaze on the bottom of the door those callused fingers squeezed back minutely, and after a moment of silence, Hiei finally went on.

"He never came back. Some asshole took a turn too fast and lost control…" he shut his eyes, tilting his head back to rest against the cool tiles. "They had to identify him through dental records…"

"Gods…" Kurama murmured.

"I think my mother might have loved me once, before my father died. But now I'm nothing more than a reminder of him, and her scapegoat." Opening his eyes, which were rich with bottled emotions, Hiei removed his hand from Kurama's grasp and tilted his arm, indicating that the redhead could continue his ministrations. Kurama took the cue, smoothly returning to bandaging Hiei as the darker boy frowned, then added.

"According to her I'm the reason he's gone and a constant burden. I've ruined her life. She doesn't want me around."

"A woman like that doesn't deserve children." Kurama spat, finishing the job by taping the bandage and pulling Hiei's sleeve down over it. "What happened to your father _wasn't_ your fault." His voice was dead serious, his eyes even more so.

Hiei's chest clenched in an odd way; no one had ever told him that before. He was struck by those words, their reality radiating through his limbs, tingling. Again, he wanted to believe Kurama, liked that the redhead was on his side, but before he could summon up another internal battle said redhead stood, extended his arm and pulled Hiei to his feet via his right hand.

"Let's get you some breakfast," he said softly, "I'll eat if you will. Mother sent some muffins over with me...they're homemade."

Hiei reached into his pocket, lit yet another cigarette and muttered, "Anything, as long as it's not ice cream." Pushing past the redhead with his usual surliness he left the bathroom, stopping once he got into the hallway to add, "I hate the shit now."

* * *

><p>Shiori's blueberry muffins were indeed delicious. Hiei hadn't had much else in the last month except the standard cold cereal, Cool Ranch Doritos, and Whatever Coffee He Could Get His Hands On. Baked goods were something of a treat, especially fresh homemade ones. He ate almost half and – surprisingly - his stomach let him. Kurama ate the same amount, both of them in silence, which was fast becoming their friend. It was nice that Kurama understood Hiei's need for space, especially after what had just happened, and the redhead wasn't one for meaningless conversation; he preferred the soundless bond between them and the reprieve of not having to wear the mask so tight.<p>

Finally, as Kurama cleaned up after their breakfast, wrapping up the leftover muffins and brushing crumbs from the table, Hiei decided to speak, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"How did you learn to pick locks?" he asked, starting yet another smoke, and Kurama stopped all motion looking sideways at him.

"VIP rooms are hard to get into," he replied matter-of-factly. "Vacant apartments in the city are great places to watch the sunrise and make love, especially if you live with your mother."

Hiei raised an eyebrow.

"And" Kurama added after a pause, his voice both mischievous and wistful, "I like shiny things."

"You ever been caught?" Hiei moved to the living room, sat on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other and lying back.

Kurama joined him two cushions away. "Never." Now he sounded smug.

"No one's _that_ good," Hiei stated, although a part of him believed what the redhead was saying.

Kurama gave him a small, conniving smile. "I was."

"Hn." Taking a last drag Hiei turned away, grinding his cigarette out in an ashtray on the end table while surreptitiously studying Kurama from the corner of his eye. With sunlight streaking down upon those flawless features the redhead was stunning, his hair like fire, his skin a creamy white, that long lean body a new and unexplored paradise.

And the way he sat on the couch – trusting, unassuming, studying the wall with mild interest – was the perfect invitation for Hiei to peruse that exciting terrain. He hadn't had sex in almost thirty-six hours, which was practically eons to him, and his cock stirred as his mind spun with visions of Kurama beneath him, bare-chested and flushed, that crimson mane tangled and strewn across the cushions. Hiei could almost feel those slim hips between his thighs, the ghost of Kurama's shaft inside of him as he dropped down again and again, slamming the redhead's cock into his ass over and over…

Lust barreled its way through his veins, burning stronger than nicotine ever could.

_Now. _

In a swift move that Kurama never saw, Hiei swung himself up and straddled the redhead's lap, winding fingers through that long crimson mane as he pressed their groins together. Taken off guard, Kurama stifled a gasp, eyes wide, and pushed against the smaller teen's chest.

"Hiei!" That word tried to be a warning, a deterrent, but Hiei was having none of that. Circling his hips a bit, he pressed harder against Kurama, forcing the hands on his chest to fist in his shirt as he leaned over, nipping the redhead's ear, then whispering into it.

"I want you to fuck me." Hiei's voice was low, deep and purring, and it thrummed through Kurama, putting the redhead under his spell. Grinding a little faster he pulled away, briefly studying those jade eyes – which were clouding with hesitant want – before tilting his head and leaning in, initiating a searing, moan-filled kiss.

In Kurama's psyche need battled with the barrage of memory, laying minefields of regret; however, no matter how loudly the past screamed, his libido was winning. He hadn't had physical contact in so very long and realized - at the feel of Hiei's lips on his - just how much he'd _missed_ it. He had always thought that intimacy with another would feel dirty…wrong…

But it didn't. Which in the end would make the guilt deeper, even more unbearable; however, the movements of Hiei's body, the way he smelled – like evergreen ash – and the hardness of the sizeable shaft pressed against his own overrode any logical thought. For some reason, despite all the promises he was breaking, despite the fact that getting sexually involved was the worst thing he could do, touching Hiei felt _right_.

It felt almost familiar, and all of a sudden Kurama just…_forgot_. Just let go.

Throwing himself into the kiss he wrapped his arms around that undulating body, one hand grasping that tiny ass, the other scratching up a lean back, as he lost himself to the present, lost himself to the pleasure, letting every nerve sing with sensation instead of sorrow.

On fire from the sweet taste of Kurama's mouth Hiei leaned in further, pushing them against the back of the couch as the kissing became deeper, wetter, more intense, their tongues entwined, their breath coming faster. Letting his hands roam, Hiei skimmed fingers down the redhead's chest, learning the contours, dancing his touch over the lean muscles, but what he really wanted was to feel Kurama's skin. Impatient, he sucked on the redhead's bottom lip and slid a hand up under that black sweater, sampling the silky flesh with a groan. Tracing a pectoral, he rolled a finger over a pert nipple and Kurama gasped, making a pleased sound that shot straight to Hiei's cock, which throbbed with a fierce intensity; in fact, Hiei's whole body throbbed.

Touching Kurama felt different from all the others, it felt new, it felt…_pure. _As they kissed, as those meticulous hands found their way under Hiei's layers, the heaviness seemed so far away, everything seemed so far away, and as Kurama's fingers caressed his bared hipbone, one digit hooking under and tugging on the waistband of his jeans, Hiei was flooded with an unusual sensation that he couldn't place. It was akin to the naked, exposed feeling Kurama always left him with but this was warmer, spreading through his chest and into his limbs, leaving him stripped and shivering, gasping for air as he broke away from this kiss.

_What is this?_

Overwhelmed, he leaned his forehead against Kurama's, enjoying the way their breath mingled as they stared into each other's eyes. Instantly he was drawn in, swallowed, and all he wanted was to exist in that gaze, ride weightless and free within that emerald ocean. Gently, he ran his fingers from Kurama's temple, down his cheekbones to those plump lips, where he traced them before unconsciously murmuring,

"You know that you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, right?"

_I'm still waiting, Kurama._

Suddenly, the redhead froze, all sensuality draining from his face, replaced by pure shock, then fear. He shrunk away from Hiei, sinking back further into the couch as he removed his hands and secured them around himself, quickly turning away.

Hiei felt liked he'd been dowsed in ice water. "What the hell?" he asked irritably, wrapping a hand around Kurama's chin. "What's going on?"

_Don't do this to me again… I need you._

Silence. Hiei tugged, pulling Kurama's face toward him despite the resistance, but as soon as he saw the expression on those striking features he gave pause.

Those striking eyes were dull, dim, and that pretty face was pinched, awash with grief. The level of horror etched into that visage was disturbing, as was the tone of Kurama's voice, for when he spoke it was detached, cold, seeming to come from a dark empty place within him.

"I'm sorry, Hiei," he began slowly and for a moment Hiei expected the words to echo, "I don't mean to lead you on." Taking a deep breath he slowly disengaged his chin from that pinching grasp and twisted his body, forcing Hiei off his lap to the side.

"I'm attracted to you but I can't do this," he continued, standing up and walking around the back of the couch, still hugging himself tightly, protectively. Hiei's piercing brown gaze clocked his every move but Kurama kept his back to him, fisting his hands in the sleeves of his sweater. He fell silent once again, his sorrow blanketing the room.

A few seconds slipped by, then Hiei crossed his own arms, asking something that he knew was off-limits, but he was horny, annoyed, and – due to the redhead's sudden freakout - honestly curious.

"Who is he?"

Kurama stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head until a wide green eye appeared over his shoulder.

"What?" that alto was flimsy, shaky and Hiei knew he was on the right track. Really, he wasn't one to pry - wasn't one to _care_ - but he needed answers. He'd been denied the pleasures of that perfect body twice now and wanted something shared in return for being refused.

"The guy you're in love with, who is he?" Swinging his legs up on the couch he balanced an arm on a raised knee. "He's obviously not fucking you. Is he still back in Manhattan?"

Red hair swung forward as Kurama hung his head, silent again, but Hiei pressed on, grumbling,

"At least tell me his name."

Inhaling sharply, Kurama looked up at the ceiling.

_His name_.

Could he say it aloud? Would it make the loneliness that much deeper, the hell so much darker, if it was voiced? Would it sully the memories? His mind spun and tears filled his eyes as the guilt-laden mines borne by Hiei's touch exploded, showering him with remorse.

_His name…_

But Kurama _knew_, knew deep inside that if he were to have any real friendship with Hiei he would have to talk about this sooner or later. He couldn't hide it forever – obviously Hiei had figured out some of it on his own anyway - and one of the benefits to this camaraderie was that he didn't have to suffer alone. Besides, after everything that happened yesterday, after everything that happened today, Kurama felt he owed Hiei _something_.

_I haven't said his name in so long…_

The tears in his eyes spilled over, slipping down Kurama's cheeks as he turned back to his friend. The walls of his isolation heaved, coming in closer, threatening to crush him, but he pushed back, forcing his way out through the silence, managing to say softly,

"His name is Kuronue."

His gaze met Hiei's and the world stopped around them, the next three words seeming to ripple through the room as Kurama - with more sorrow than a voice should hold, and conveying every ounce of pain, of suffering, of grief that swam within - stated in a wisp of a voice,

"And he's dead."


	6. April 13th, 2005

~Author's Note~

-Warnings: Yaoi, Self-Mutilation, Angst and Some Smut

-Thanks to all who reviewed and followed!

* * *

><p><em>"Ship me off to the morgue<br>I'm ready to be buried  
>Alone way down in my bed, bed<br>And I'm alone without the sun  
>Ship me off to the morgue<br>I'm ready to be buried  
>Alone way down in my bed, bed<br>And I'm alone without the sun  
>Please just take one…"<em>

**For Squirrels - ****_The Mighty K.C._**

** Chapter 6: April 13****th****, 2005**

_I called to tell you that I won't be back until June._

Steam rolled thickly through the bathroom, fogging the mirror and slicking the walls with moisture. Crumpled up on the shower floor with his weapon-of-choice in hand Hiei cut slowly across his thigh, the scissor's blade leaving a deep horizontal line on his flesh. Blankly, he watched as blood welled up in the wound, overflowed, then slid away while searing water drummed at his back, scalding his skin.

_Edward and I are going to live together once we return to the states, so I'm selling the condo. _

Pressing his temple against the wet tiles, he shook, his body twitching as crimson streamed down his leg, mixing with the water until pink-tinted spirals circled the drain.

_I finally found someone you couldn't take from me, you little whore._

His mind and his thigh throbbed as things he'd tried so hard to forget bubbled to the surface once again, fresh and festering, taunting him. Twisting his leg, Hiei angled the limb fully into the burning water, upping the agony, trying to escape. Pain immediately shot through him as his flesh was pelted with tiny hot needles and he sunk into the sensation, drowning in it.

_You've done enough to ruin my life. The day I get back is the day that you're out –_

Hiei cringed, too many memories lacing the venom in his mother's words.

_-and the last day you're my son. _

Slowly he looked down, upturning his left wrist and running the scissor's sharp edge down the center, hard enough to feel the potential death but not enough to break the skin. It was so tempting to end it all now - no more sleepless nights, no more suffering, no more heaviness. He had done his time, was almost there, could practically see the finish line, and now? Another month had been added to his sentence.

But he'd made it this far, he couldn't give up.

_The only thing that matters now is how I die._

The scissors clattered to the floor as Hiei stood, wobbly but determined, shutting off the water and standing still in the newly-silent shower.

_I can do this. _

Head bowed, fists clenched, leg wrapped in ribbons of red, Hiei shouldered what was left of his sanity and stared holes through the wall.

_I want my blood on your hands._

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for him to dry off and bandage his thigh and within minutes he was back in his room, knocking over various things as he stumbled around the space, trying to find a shirt that wasn't too dirty to wear so he could smoke a cigarette outside. Although his chest didn't feel like someone was sitting on it anymore that would only last so long, and just because the heaviness backed off didn't mean the flashes had stopped. Hiei could almost smell the smoke, could almost feel the hands curled around his throat, and the walls seemed to be closing in on him, pulsing, reminding him of his shame.<p>

With his hair damp yet dry enough to start standing on end, Hiei found something to put on, layered it with his long winter coat, and headed for the balcony. The cold air would be good for him; he needed to shock his system and stop his mind for awhile or he wouldn't just be a bloody mess on the floor, he'd be a corpse.

Stopping to light a cigarette in the doorway, his legs wobbled and he clutched at the frame, leaning against it and staring outside, breathing in deeply. There was no escaping it, he was getting weaker. His weight had stopped dropping but his will to die was stronger, wiping out whatever health he was trying to achieve in order to fool his friends. Aside from his self-inflicted pain, he now dealt with nosebleeds, shaky weak limbs, and a constant unabating exhaustion that ironically didn't help his insomnia. Although the nights now passed where he was too tired to move, sleep still evaded him and he spent his days muddling through even more zombielike than before.

Thankfully, no one had noticed. Ever since their "talk" Yusuke had kept his distance, distracted by the next level of his relationship with Keiko, and everyone else was preoccupied with homework, the evil of finals, prom, graduation, and college looming in the distance. There was a certain nervous flutter of anticipation amongst his friends and Hiei took no part in it, so to them it was business as usual.

Besides, over the last month he'd spent most of his time with Kurama.

Ever since Hiei learned Kuronue's name, Kurama drew closer but not too much. They learned about each other but not too much. Still too fragile to rely on their developing trust they were careful, protecting something that was destructive yet dear to them, afraid to lose the only thing in their lives that had meaning, that was worth anything.

It was an odd friendship based on coping and secrets, ruin and escape, yet it was bolstered by understanding and something else, something unexplainable…

Kurama was the first person who just _got_ Hiei. Yusuke was simultaneously intuitive and clueless, and Yukina was blood, but neither of them could read Hiei the way that redhead could.

Kurama just _knew_. Knew everything. What to say, what not to say, what to do, when to not do anything. It was odd and disconcerting and just about perfect.

Because Hiei got Kurama too.

Ignoring his body's protests, Hiei pushed away from the doorframe and walked across the balcony on shaky legs, gingerly sitting down on a lone folding chair that had a Very Full ashtray next to it. Settling back, he took a few more drags from his cigarette, blowing smoke through the frigid mid-April night while definitely _not_ staring at Kurama's bedroom window.

_The light is on. _

Inhaling more nicotine, he shivered, squinting at the glowing yellow square.

_Probably homework. The fool. What is he doing that for, his _future_?_

Even though he saw Kurama almost-daily, Hiei was still spending most of his time at school in the bathroom, the lunchroom, or the "smoking area" outside while Kurama actually went to class, did what was required of him and did it well. The masses were confused and captivated: the fight alone had made Kurama a "mysterious bad boy", adding to his status as an enigma but the fact that he was defending Hiei? That he hung out with Hiei? Rumours were flying fast enough to break the sound barrier and people were getting creative. _Very_ creative. Which was ironic because nothing had happened between them since Hiei tried and failed a second time that morning on the couch.

_Maybe the third time's a charm…_

Scratching at his throat, which seemed to have a permanent imprint of a collar on it, Hiei winced; the flesh was raw and red, just like his mind. Without Yusuke to rely on and with such a tempting-yet-platonic friend, he was still venturing to Karasu to vent his needs. As expected, his gothic master did not disappoint, violating him in new and hideous ways, their sessions brutal, humiliating, and…

_Boring_.

Hiei sniffed, flicking ash onto the wooden slats of the balcony floor.

No matter what Karasu did, it just wasn't the same anymore.

Nothing was the same since he'd touched Kurama.

Sure, the trysts gave Hiei reprieve but it was a hollow victory, empty, worlds apart from what he felt during those too-few moments with the redhead.

And how light and content he had felt _afterward_.

He still wanted Kurama – badly – and he knew with absolute certainty that if his friend gave in they could reach a numbing blissful passion that would give both of them ease for days…

But Kurama seemed firm in his decision and the topic of Kuronue was obviously off limits.

And _why_ did Hiei care anyway? The word "no" had never stopped him before. Was he actually _respecting_ people now? Absurd.

Well, maybe he was a little curious. And maybe he did care…a bit. And maybe he wanted to know more about Kurama, know everything about Kurama, fuck him hard and tear him open, discover what makes him tick. And that was confusing, scary, different than anything he'd ever felt before so he decided to hold back, to wait and watch, trying not to spook the redhead or himself.

While still blurring everything out with pain.

Another long pull of smoke sent Hiei further back into his seat. His mind was beginning to release and his legs had stopped shivering; instead, they just hummed, right along with the rest of him.

He shifted a bit, breathing heavily. Odd, he was starting to feel warm, but it was a standard New York early-spring night: frigid and unforgiving.

_Maybe the cigarette warmed me up_.

A snicker bubbled up in his chest.

_Or maybe it was thinkin' bout Kurama_.

Strangely drunk, he giggled, his breath fogging the air as the redhead's window blurred in his vision.

He was comfortable, _very_ comfortable. Numb. Floaty.

Weightless.

_Yes._

Closing his eyes, Hiei embraced that feathery peace and the warmth intensified, spreading through his body until he was molasses, sleepy _sleepy_ molasses. His mind slowed to a crawl, then fuzzed out to nothing as he drifted into the arms of unconsciousness, no longer feeling anything at all. Ash fell from the cigarette still lodged between his fingers as his head lolled to the side, the life draining out of him along with the colour on his lips, which bled to white, eager for the blissful kiss of death.

* * *

><p><em>The amount of busywork that high school gives us is ridiculous.<em>

Stretching his arms toward the ceiling and arching, Kurama popped his back and eyed _Macbeth_ with exhaustion. After four long hours spent over three subjects his brain was mushy. He still wasn't sleeping much and figuring out trig calculations, reading two history chapters, and writing up the results of his chemistry labs stripped him of what little energy he had after being at school all day, and he didn't have much to begin with. The sad thing was that even after all his efforts he could use a head start on the play; there was a paper due next week, along with two others in different classes, and he still hadn't read an act.

_What am I even doing this for?_ Sighing, he picked up the book, idly flipping through it. _My _future_?_

No. It was all a greater part of the mask he wore, the role he played. Good grades made him look normal. Happy. So did friends. Shiori seemed less worried about him when he acted like an average teenager, so he kept his grades up, maintained his friendships, and spent most of his time at Hiei's place.

Besides, having Hiei around made everything slightly easier.

Looking up, he pulled back the curtain from the window in front of his desk and peered across the empty road. Seeing the telltale sign of smoke rising from his friend's balcony, Kurama felt something tighten in his chest and he smiled.

_Hiei…_

He had always been a social creature and not having a friend in these past few years, especially after being stripped of a love, made his isolation more pronounced, made it a sturdier cage with thicker bars.

Made the weights of guilt around his soul heavier.

The smile fell from his face and he looked away, dropping the gauzy fabric from his fingers. Honestly, he shouldn't even be hanging out with Hiei at all. There was no changing his friend's mind on this, it was inevitable. In a month…

_I'm going to be even more alone than before. _

Hands ran roughly through brilliant red hair, wanting to pull it out but settling on tugging instead.

_Why am I putting myself through this all over again?_

Because he was lonely. Because he'd found someone to lean on. Because Hiei intrigued him, was different than anyone he'd ever met. Because he gave him something that he'd been missing for far too long…

Another soul like his.

_And I'm going to lose this one too._

Suddenly, the glass at the edge of Kurama's desk shattered, spraying him, his homework on the desk and a stuffed fox on the floor with water and shards. Cursing appropriately he jumped back, quickly grabbing a t-shirt from the dresser and mopping up the liquid, thankful that he had just closed his notebook. Picking up a rather large piece of jagged glass Kurama studied it then dropped it in the trash, shaking his cold wet hand as he looked up at the window again.

The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he shivered distinctly, his blood running with prickly ice. He'd only felt like this once before and never wanted to again.

_Hiei._

Kurama shivered more violently this time, his body jolting, and before he knew what he was doing his shoes were on and he was pushing his arms through the sleeves of his coat, racing through the house and down the stairs with his heart hammering in his chest. Absently checking for his keys he slammed the front door behind him and darted across the street, his hair whipping around in the chilly wind.

The complex was quiet, as most things in suburbia were after eight o'clock, and some of the condos were already dark for the night. Reaching his friend's balcony, Kurama stopped just under it, squinting up. The angle was bad, he couldn't see anything.

His stomach twisted. Something was _wrong_; he was certain of it.

"Hiei!" he tried, loud enough to hear but not so loud that someone called the cops.

No response. The dark figure he could make out through the slats didn't move, didn't even twitch.

"Hiei! _Hiei!_" he shouted this time, his blood rushing too fast for him to care about his volume anymore.

Nothing. Kurama grit his teeth, frightened. If Hiei was unresponsive, that meant he was either asleep or unconscious, both were deadly on a cold night like tonight.

_I need to get to him _now.

Green eyes flicked over the area. It seemed no one noticed his shouting. Good.

He slinked over to the front door, stopping so his back blocked any nosy neighbors from witnessing his talents. Reaching into his coat he got a small case from the inside pocket and flicked the latch with a finger, snapping it open with one hand and selecting two long thin tools with the other. His mind was detached, focused on the task at hand, the fear and the hope and the jumble of everything else pushed to the back so he could do this. Could succeed where he had failed before.

A chalk outline flashed in Kurama's mind, bloodstains on a hardwood floor. He swallowed, trying to ignore it, and concentrated. It wasn't Hiei's time yet, he still had a month…

_I have to save him. _

With expertise and precision, Kurama quickly worked his way through the locks, and the door cracked open. He slipped through, trying not to slam that one too, and ran up the stairs to the second floor, every fiber in his being wanting, _needing_, to find his friend in a state that was fixable.

"Hiei!" he choked out, rushing through the open balcony door and skidding to a halt next to the chair. He crouched down, heart pounding, and tried not to gasp.

Hiei was unconscious, limp in his seat, his head slumped to the side. His normally grey and sunken cheeks were flushed with splotches of red and his lips were the colourless contrast, parted and ashen, they took in small short gasps of air.

But it was the little sounds that slipped from those lips, the wheezy rattling sounds, that really scared Kurama, made him take a few deep breaths of his own to collect himself.

_I have to save him. I _need_ him._

Kneeling before the chair, he placed a hand on Hiei's forehead, brushing away icy bangs in the process. The skin beneath was almost as cold.

Kurama grit his teeth. This was part of _Shiori First Aid 101_, he knew what this was.

_Hypothermia. _

He needed to get his friend inside, gently, and get him warm. _Now_.

Even though his brain yammered at him, pressing and pushing and showing him echoes of another life layered over this, Kurama pursed his lips and walled everything out, just as he had done before. Carefully, he levered up on one knee, sliding an arm under Hiei's legs and another under his shoulders, just at the base of his neck.

Then a thought struck Kurama hard, and he hesitated, unsure, his chest squeezing so hard he gasped for air as well.

_Is this the end?_ That green gaze shifted back to his dying friend. _Did Hiei change his mind and decide to kill himself tonight?_

His hands unconsciously tightened in their hold, fingers curling around the black wool coat. He didn't want to let go, but…

_I promised him I wouldn't interfere._

Red hair fell forward over Hiei's prone form as Kurama bowed his head, taking in a shuddering breath, reaching for some strength and clarity in a moment that was hitting all his triggers.

_I can't break another promise._ Then there was doubt within his doubt. And in that moment, logic shot through his mind.

_I need proof._

Forcing the air out hard, he raised his head slowly and surveyed the balcony, a new sharpness in his eyes. There was no note, no pills, nothing but Hiei, the chair, and the ashtray. That intense gaze landed once again on Hiei's face, the parted lips, the cigarette in that tiny pale hand.

Suddenly, under Kurama's watch a light wind blew through the trees, teasing the balcony with its caress, and the stack of ash that still clung to the end of Hiei's cigarette fell from between his fingers, scattering across the floor.

Everything about this screamed _accident; _Kurama knew it just as he knew Hiei was in danger a few moments ago and he trusted his gut.

_Besides, he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to me…right?_

Decision made, and aware of the wrath he'd incur if wrong, Kurama stood, bringing Hiei with him, trying not to cringe at how light his friend was. Quickly and with grace he went inside into warmth and made a beeline to Hiei's room. Stopping before the bed, Kurama balanced easily on one foot, slipping the other under the covers and flipping it back, then resting Hiei on the mattress.

Pulling the blankets over his frozen friend, Kurama tucked him in then grasped a strand of spiky hair, studying it with a slight frown. The piece was almost hard in places and now that they were indoors the frosty tip had begun to melt.

_Did he go outside with a wet head? _

The redhead sighed, dropping his hand and standing.

_I'm surprised he made it this long without inadvertently killing himself already. He needs a babysitter._

Shucking his coat to the floor, he covered Hiei with another blanket that was balled up at the foot of the bed and then – with a rough plan in mind - ransacked the other bedrooms, the hallway bathroom, and the linen closet. Returning with two more blankets, a heating pad, and a thermometer, he strode over to the bed, dumping the items beside him.

Selecting both of the new blankets first he tucked Hiei in further and then plugged in the heating pad, sliding it among the layers. Resting a knee on the mattress, Kurama dried Hiei's hair with one of the towels, spending a few minutes on it, ruffling it slowly, gently, making sure that it was de-iced and only slightly damp when he was done.

Dropping the wet towel to the floor, Kurama took his knee from the bed and knelt beside it, thermometer in hand. Leaning over, he smiled at the moppy mess of hair on Hiei's head, amazed at how it was already sticking up, wanting to stand on end.

Before he even thought of it his hand was already lacing through those thick white-arced streaks, sampling the strands, his face drifting closer. He couldn't even breathe as he stared at Hiei's parted lips and for a moment he lost himself, wanting nothing more than to taste the hot wet sweetness of that mouth again. His fingers twitched, his cock twitched, his mind twitched –

And whirled in rebuttal, throwing memories at Kurama in a way that made him freeze then shake his head violently, as if he could dislodge the echo that Hiei always stirred in his past, as if he could dislodge his feelings.

Pulling away to a safe distance, Kurama took a few deep breaths, steeling himself once more, and placed the thermometer between those tempting lips, waiting. The results weren't good.

_Ninety degrees. That's mild hypothermia._

Kurama's stomach and jaw clenched. It had been fifteen minutes since Hiei had been brought inside and he hadn't moved at all; thankfully, he had stopped that horrid wheezing within moments of hitting the bed but the breaths he took felt hard-earned and his sunken grey face was still splotchy and drawn.

Although he wouldn't admit it out loud, Kurama was worried. He had to get Hiei warmer – _much_ warmer - and fast, but he didn't like his options: a bath would be complicated and had a chill-potential he didn't like…

However, body heat was going to test his will and his already thin level of sanity.

Suddenly, Hiei jolted and the wheezing started again, eerie and thin and ending with something that sounded suspiciously like a death rattle.

Kurama frowned, making his decision.

* * *

><p><em>Hands around his throat and a cock in his ass, the pressure of his own scream building but coming out as nothing but a stuttering croak.<em>

_"Pretty thing," a voice –_ that voice - _hissed in his ear, those hands squeezing more tightly. Hiei couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't feel..._

_Couldn't feel anything but pleasure._

_The thrusts came harder and erratic and the fingers wrapped around his neck pressed just so. He tried to moan but gasped instead, wanting more, wanting the sheer bliss to burn him away. Rocking his hips, he opened his legs as far as they could go._

_An even tighter squeeze. "What a little whore, takes my cock every day and loves it. Comes all over it." That thick pulsing shaft scraped along Hiei's walls as it pushed all the way in, pressing right against_ there_, and he choked again, his body quivering._

_Gasping for air and assaulted by searing ecstasy, Hiei lost himself, his vision blurring. He heard a chuckle as he began to black out, wanting to scream, desperation overwhelming him, and it took all he had not to claw at the fingers grasping his throat._

_He was waiting. Waiting for that moment of blackness, darkness, where he was so near death he felt nothing, was nothing. Where for a few brief seconds he wasn't just weightless, he didn't exist._

_But instead of that, as everything fuzzed out, all Hiei could see was green. His soul felt lush, like a forest, he could almost smell the earth._

"Kur…a…ma…" _He managed to cough out, in shock._

_The weight against him shifted, pulling his body in painful ways. "He won't save you." That polished voice was dripping with evil, wrapping sinuously around Hiei's heart. _

_"No one would ever want a whore like you."_

* * *

><p>With a sharp gasp that ended in a crackling cough, Hiei's body racked and his eyes flew open. Light and sound and pain ripped through him as he slammed back into the living and he curled forward, coughing even harder.<p>

It took a few seconds for the hacking to stop and for reality to coalesce, although it was still fuzzy at the edges. The dream had been so real, so visceral; he was trembling just from the sound of that poisonous voice, the familiar touch of those hands, the full torrent of all the things he had felt, had been, had _done_ washing through him, pushing his head below water.

_I won't see him again. I _can't_ see him again - it'll break me._

"I'm glad you're awake."

Starting with a squeak that he'd later curse himself for, Hiei uncurled, trying to turn, then stopped as warmth and roses and the same green that invaded his dreams now assaulted his senses.

Frozen in place, his eyes widened as he realized some very important things:

_I'm in Kurama's lap…we're in my bed…_

And if he felt anywhere near human he would immediately be taking advantage of the situation but he was still rather shaken and confused. Flicking his eyes over Kurama's face, his confusion swelled as he took in the redhead's solemn-yet-relieved expression, which made him look far too old for his years.

"What…happened?" Hiei's voice was thin, raspy, as if the dream _had_ been real. He resisted the urge to rub at his throat.

"You fell asleep outside with a wet head, Hiei," Kurama's voice was gentle, slow, and he carefully placed a hand on Hiei's shoulder as if to steady him. "I found you right before you succumbed to hypothermia."

Hiei blinked for a few seconds then jolted in a mix of comprehension and fear, his eyes widening even further.

Kurama squeezed that thin shoulder in reassurance, not just for Hiei but for himself. This was the moment of truth; if he'd made a mistake he'd know it right now.

"I didn't ruin your plans, did I?" he asked softly, hesitant and anxious but wanting to know, _needing_ to know if he'd made the right decision.

Of all people, Kurama understood how brutal it was to have your death interrupted.

It was a moment before Hiei understood, he was still trying to process the fact that just a few minutes ago he had almost died, had almost fucking _died,_ and although he wanted it, craved it – it wasn't his time. His death had meaning and to lose that meaning would make all of this pointless.

He'd been suffering for too long for this to be _pointless_.

Hiei was pissed, not at Kurama but at himself. Frowning, he shook his head to absolve the redhead of the supposed guilt, regretting the motion instantly as the room spun.

Rubbing his temples, he stopped and stared at a sleeve, realizing that his coat was still on. Looking around for a moment he took everything in: how he was under blankets laced with a heating pad, Kurama's body like an autumn fire at his back. Continuing to glance around the room he found that despite the trembling aftershocks he was almost warm and felt something akin to a hangover. Things started to come back in flashes and he coughed again, trying to find a whole voice as he asked the first thing that popped into his head "H-how did you…"

_How did you know I was out there?_

Kurama, who had been studying Hiei intently, tilted his head and answered with assurance.

"I just felt it."

Silence. They stared at each other for a moment, both slightly stunned by the flash of their connection. If anyone else in the world had said that to Hiei, he wouldn't have believed them, but this was _Kurama_, the one person who seemed to defy all laws, break all rules, who knew the easiest way inside, to that place behind the mask.

Sometimes, Kurama knew Hiei better than he knew himself.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze, tugging at the collar of his coat. The long black wool felt like a shroud, like those long-fingered hands were still there, caressing him, choking him, and the heaviness was almost too much.

For a second he thought he smelled cigars and the tugging became more furious. Before the thick material ripped down the seams, Kurama reached forward and easily assisted in removing the thing, throwing it to the floor beside his own coat and the bedpillows then situating Hiei under the covers again, between his legs. With his back against the wall and his smaller friend resting against him, Kurama's hands twitched, trying to find a place to rest that _wasn't_ Hiei's thigh and settling almost unhappily on the blanket.

"How are you feeling?" he asked lightly, just plain happy that Hiei was conscious and that – for the moment – disaster was avoided. No one had to be called for help, there were no hospital visits, and his friend wasn't trying to take an early exit. He would be around for another month at least.

Said friend snorted. "Like shit. Why am I in your lap?"

"Well Hiei," Kurama looked anywhere but down at that alluring face, their lips were already far too close, "you fell asleep on the balcony and after I brought you inside-"

"How _did_ you get inside?"

Kurama blinked at Hiei as if he were stupid. Slowly they grinned at each other, although Hiei's grin was more of a half-smirk, and a few chuckles escaped the redhead. Hiei felt the slow vibrations of the laugh through his body and closed his eyes for a minute as Kurama finished explaining.

"After some time you didn't seem to be warming up and your breathing was laboured; body heat can be very helpful in that situation."

"Hn." That particular '_hn_' was heavily laced with disbelief.

The redhead chuckled again. "I'll gladly Wikipedia it for you, if you'd like."

Hiei pressed back into the embrace, enjoying the way Kurama's body stiffened, as if he were holding himself back. Tilting his head up, Hiei brushed his nose across his friend's chin, where the scent of roses was the strongest.

"You can't hold me like this if you're not going to fuck me," he deadpanned. "You're tempting."

Silver swung into his gaze as Kurama tilted his head in return, not looking at Hiei's eyes but instead at the chaffed red ring around his neck, which had presented itself once the coat was off.

Karasu was one of the many elephants in the room, another layer between them. Kurama never said a word about it but the bruises were obvious. Seeing Hiei marked so viciously twisted the redhead's heart, practically made him sick.

He'd seen it too many times before.

_I promise, if you say yes I'll make sure that he never hurts you again_…

He wanted it to stop but it wasn't his place to ask; he'd have to make a deeper commitment to Hiei if he did. And what scared him the most was that for brief seconds over the last few weeks when he was just _with_ Hiei he wanted to make that commitment, wanted to jump over that cliff and into his broken friend's life, stop him and care for him and be with him.

_I want to save him._

"Why do you go to Karasu? He's sadistic," Kurama asked softly, taking this intimate moment to finally break his silence on the subject.

Hiei was quiet for a few heartbeats, stoic. Turning his head away he stared at the wall, stating simply, "I want him to be."

"But he could kill you." Kurama stared at a mottled purple-green-yellow splotch that graced the skin over Hiei's pulse, its center a mini-universe in deep blue-black. He repressed the urge to brush his lips over it.

"Kurama," Hiei's voice was bleak, solemn, cutting through the redhead's thoughts. "You can't give me what I need...although I want you to."

Silence fell once more, the air between them thick with tension, almost crackling with things left unsaid – things that would curse them, that would bind them, but there were plans, there were promises, far too much time and not enough strength.

_I called to tell you that I won't be back until June._

Hiei jolted, suddenly remembering why he was outside in the first place, and glanced at his leg, almost as if he could see the fresh wound through his pants. He was quick about hiding his expression but Kurama caught the very end of it and a hand that was on the bed drifted up, touching Hiei's shoulder lightly.

"Did something happen tonight? Did she call again?" Kurama's tone was just as cautious as his touch. They both knew who the redhead was referring to and – as usual – he was right on point when it came to his friend.

"She's going to be away for another month," Hiei spat through clenched teeth, his head spinning as he processed the effort involved in being alive longer than he'd originally planned.

_I was so close…_

As usual Kurama didn't need further explanation, but since the subject was open he did want to confirm something, something he suspected. "And you're waiting until your mother returns to…"

Staring straight ahead at an unadorned bedroom wall, Hiei nodded solemnly and they went silent again but for different reasons. Hiei was morose, battered and bruised and unable to cope with having to stay above ground until summer; however, Kurama was reeling - he was going to have this company, this friend, this lean-to for another thirty days and damn it all, he was happy. Who knew what could happen with more time…

_No, don't think like that. He's going to go through with it and I can't break another promise-_

"Kurama, what is your pain like?"

Struck, ripped from his thoughts and laid bare with shock - a state only Hiei could get him to - Kurama opened his mouth, then closed it, then sighed.

"I'm sorry, Hiei, I…I can't talk about him," he rasped. "Not yet."

Tossing off the blankets, the smaller teen turned in Kurama's lap, meeting his gaze with sharp and serious eyes. "I didn't ask you about _him_, I asked you what your pain is like." To anyone else Hiei's voice would read as abrasive but Kurama could see the subtle plea in there, the weight, the vulnerability.

Kurama blinked, taking in a long breath. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer, he was just unused to talking about…_this_. This whole thing. How he felt. He wasn't used to being honest about wanting to die, about the bleak despair he swam everyday from just knowing that he'd never hear Kuronue's voice again, never look into those eyes, never lay his head against that strong chest and feel his heart beat, never curl against him, hug him, talk to him, hear his laugh…

After having true love, waking every morning to a world full of possibility, a place that had someone for you in it, and then having it all taken away? Who could understand _that_?

"Isolation," Kurama said without thinking, eyes widening as he realized it slipped out. Hiei frowned, tilting his head and leaning forward so slightly it was almost unnoticeable, but it was enough to encourage the redhead to continue, the rest of the words quickly following, as if the first one had cracked the dam.

"No one understands the loneliness and the grief I've experienced because no one loved…him…knew him…like I did." Kurama's voice became more of a whisper as he spoke, and he fisted the bed sheets, trying not to let everything overwhelm him. "I feel walled off from the rest of the world…stranded, separate, alone. Like I'm on an-"

"Island," Hiei interrupted unconsciously, eyes widening with awe as he realized what he did. Kurama nodded, just as stunned, both taken aback as their connection showed itself again, bright and true.

It was almost frightening.

The shroud of silence fell once more, only to be broken a few moments later by Hiei's sudden admission.

"Heaviness."

"Hm?" Kurama asked softly, opening eyes he had closed with exhaustion. The day had gone from Long to Very Long and he'd reached the end of his energy hours ago; however, that single word from Hiei snapped him back to attention and he was suddenly wide awake, rapt with curiosity.

"My pain. It's like someone is sitting on my chest. But not just my chest, all of me." The smaller teen absentmindedly clutched at his shirt, right over his heart, and shifted his eyes to the side.

"I refuse to feel like this anymore…but…I…" This was something he barely admitted to himself so it was damn hard to say it to Kurama; however he had started the whole conversation, had asked something strange and personal, and now he needed to reciprocate.

And _why_ had he asked that question in the first place? Maybe he was still out-of-it from the hypothermia, maybe it was another ploy to get into Kurama's pants…

Or maybe it was because he didn't want to feel so alone. He wanted there to be room enough on that island for two, right under the baleful moon.

Hiei clutched at his shirt harder, almost ripping the fabric.

"I don't want to hurt Yukina," he stated softly, his voice more strained than he wanted it to be, making him sound small and weak, but he was too raw to care.

Hair swinging into his vision as he ducked his head, Kurama clasped icy hands and tried not to wring them as the subject poured fire on the fuel of his pain.

"The guilt is unbearable, isn't it?" he murmured, not realizing the anguish in his statement until it blanketed the room, matching the weight of Hiei's depression. He froze, not meaning to expose this much of himself; it was wrong to both Kuronue _and_ Hiei…

_I deserve no pity for what I have done._

Suddenly, a cold, bony, and unusually well-meaning hand rested atop his own. In shock, he snapped his head up and was seized by an intense mahogany gaze.

"I don't believe you're guilty of anything," Hiei stated, an odd sincerity in his voice and something unreadable in his eyes; even he seemed slightly stunned by it.

Kurama tried to look away but couldn't, panicking as Hiei's faith shook the foundation of his temple in ways that could undo his grief, make him forget, and for a flash he felt relief.

But he couldn't have that. He was guilty, he was a monster, and he needed to atone for what he'd done, for what he'd destroyed, for what he'd broken.

_I promise, I will never leave your side._

Sighing wetly, Kurama bowed his head, feeling absolutely shattered by the stress of the day and the realization that now he was even _more_ of a monster for feeling relieved, for wanting to forget.

_I'm sorry._

He could say it forever, could burn in the deepest pits of Hell for eons and it still wouldn't make up for his sins. But he could start his penance by coming clean, telling Hiei right now exactly what he was guilty of, and risk losing the friendship. It was the least he could do; he owed both of them that much.

"Hiei…" Kurama's voice was hollow, the edges rusted with fear and shame. "It's my fault that he died." His shoulders shook with a suppressed gasp and he wrapped his arms around himself, curling inward, unable to look up at his friend. "My fault…"

He expected disgust, anger, rejection, but what he didn't expect was for Hiei to grab his chin, forcing his head up. Sodden green eyes met Hiei's burning stare, and the understanding in it, the solid unwavering faith that was _still_ there, turned Kurama's fear to ash.

"I don't care what you've done." Hiei stated in a dull yet oddly reassuring tone. He wasn't shocked by Kurama's admission, with the way his friend acted it was easy to deduce, yet he spoke honestly; he truly didn't care about any of it because over the past few months Kurama had proven himself too many times to count. He was an asset, an ally, a friend…

And someone Hiei needed.

_He won't save you._

His hand unconsciously grasped his shirt again, right over his chest. The heaviness was grinning manically in the background, the phone call, the near-death experience, and the dream giving it more mass than it had before, more presence. It was almost sentient, knowing exactly what to pierce his mind with, what to dredge up to make him feel guilt not only as strong as Kurama's but shame and regret as well.

_No one would ever want a whore like you._

Pushing the voice away, Hiei focused on the feeling of Kurama's skin against his fingertips and stared into those deep green eyes, wanting to get lost in that forest, bury himself in that earth, let Kurama know that what he'd done wasn't so terrible, and that if he was a monster, then they were both monsters.

_And I'm more of a monster than you'll ever know._

"Kurama" Hiei forced out, not wanting to tell the redhead anything but wanting to tell him _something_, "I don't care what you've…"

His voice failed him and he swallowed hard, every choice, every mistake he'd ever made railing in his mind, raining fire down upon him as he hid in that forest, burning away the greenery and showing him just _how_ he was responsible for his pain, _why_ he deserved it.

Feeling his shirt tear beneath his fist Hiei breathed in hard, fighting for words as the tide of heaviness rolled in, crushing him despite Kurama's proximity. Using the last of his resolve he tried not to let the mass of his memories engulf him, but manicured hands held him down once again, choking him, wringing the life out of him -

And there was so little life left.

"Kurama, I don't care what you've done," Hiei finally stated in a bleak tone, his eyes going flat, revealing the deep jagged scars in his mind, self-inflicted scars that he mirrored on his body every day.

"Because I'm at fault for my own darkness too."


End file.
